


Fae Creatures

by Moosenogger



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Because Deadpool, But sex is coming (lol), Damn you Netflix, Fairy AU, Fairy!Peter, Fluff, Fluffy fic starts out dark, Hurt/Comfort, I blame the Tinker Bell movies, I couldn't help myself, Just Bear With Me, Just cute little fairy wings, M/M, Macrophilia, Masturbation, Microphilia, Peter doesn't have powers, Size Difference, Slow Burn, Voyeurism, Wade loves little Peter, We've officially hit E Rating Territory!, hurrah!, it'll get fluffier though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2018-08-12 21:10:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 110,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7949299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moosenogger/pseuds/Moosenogger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter is a lone fairy living out his days deep in the English countryside. One morning he stumbles across a man named Wade Wilson, a hero from a far away land who offers Peter the chance to escape his lonely life and return with him to the land of dreams. </p><p>New York.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Investigation

**Author's Note:**

> I got the idea for this story after watching several of the Tinker Bell movies on Netflix. (They're tooth-rottingly sweet and I love them to bits.) After finishing the movies I had some cute scenes stuck in my head of fairy!Peter snuggling Wade and giving him little fairy kisses and I couldn't help myself.
> 
> I regret everything.
> 
> (Apologies beforehand if the tenses in this fic are weird. I have a problem with sticking to the same word tense throughout a chapter. I need an adult.)
> 
> Fanart: The wonderful Muse-Creations drew a picture of [Fairy!Peter!](http://sta.sh/01r0d82unboy)! He's so damn adorable, HNG~!
> 
>   
>   
> Thank you so much!

The crisp morning air brushed through Peter’s hair and over his delicate wings as he flew through the forest, his eyelids drooping lazily. He was exhausted and moody, having spent the majority of the night before hunched over his work table, sketching plans for a new contraption onto a large oak leaf. While he’d normally sleep in until well past noon after a long night of inventing, the empty grumbling of his belly had roused him from his bed at dawn’s first light.

After stumbling around his hidey hole for a few minutes getting ready, Peter had emerged from his tree den and set off into the forest in search of breakfast. Now he was zipping through the underbrush, mapping out the landscape and heading in the direction of a patch of berry bushes. Glancing at the ground as he flew, Peter smiled tiredly when he spotted several animals who were up and about, milling through the grass. At least he wasn’t the only one awake at this hour.

Peter had just spotted a bunch of rowan berries down below when a blast of thunder cut through the forest, startling the fairy and woodland creatures, alike. Heart thumping in his chest, Peter hovered in place and tilted his head up to the sky, confused when he didn’t spot any storm clouds. Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, Peter faced forward and listened carefully for any further sounds.

He didn’t have to wait long.

Several smaller booms filtered through the trees moments later, the noises echoing around him. Turning his head toward the source of the sounds, Peter dropped out of the air to land quietly on the limb of a tree. Pressing his body to the tree’s trunk, Peter placed his hands on the rough bark and leaned forward, trying to spot the cause of such a ruckus. He couldn’t place the sounds which continued to filter through the forest, though now they were much softer in pitch. What could be causing them?

Peter breathed deeply as he stared into the thick brush, his sleepiness forgotten. He debated the merits of flitting over to investigate, his natural curiosity warring with his sense of self preservation. On the one hand, it might be perilous to go searching for the source of such noises, but on the other hand...Well, there wasn’t really an other hand in this situation. Loud booms tended to signify danger, like the roar of an angry animal or the harsh clap of thunder. It was highly unlikely that this situation would be any different.

However, despite his brain screaming at him that this was a very bad idea, Peter’s curiosity won out. Jumping down from his hiding spot, he flew close to the ground and fluttered over the grass and fallen leaves, silent as a whisper. Heading in the direction of the noise, Peter turned his head side to side, searching the horizon for signs of anything strange.

He traveled for quite some time as he followed the sounds, moving deeper into the woods than he’d ever gone before. A nervous weight settled in his belly as he passed an odd patch of land, the grass and dirt stamped down as though trampled by an animal. Peter bit his lip but continued onward, unsure if he was getting any closer to the source of the booms. He could still hear them, but they were very faint and happening less frequently as time passed.

It wasn’t long before human things began popping up around him, huge machines and other odds and ends becoming more pronounced against the backdrop of the forest. Peter bit his lip nervously as he passed them, his gut screaming at him to turn around and go home. He ignored it and continued onward, looking toward the horizon to see more human things settled in a clearing up ahead. A large structure loomed at its center, the darkly painted walls surrounded by wooden boxes and other items Peter couldn’t identify.

The fairy’s wings fluttered delicately as he came to a stop, perching lightly on a branch. Peter scanned the area for signs of humans, remembering how Uncle Ben had warned him that buildings usually meant people were nearby. He couldn’t see any wandering through the trees at the moment, but that didn’t necessarily mean that there weren’t any around. Just to be sure, he strained his ears to listen for the sounds of voices or footsteps, but the woods were eerily silent. Even the booms had quieted.

Peter’s breathing picked up as he anxiously shifted on the branch, his mind racing with possibilities. Something clearly wasn’t right here, not to mention how he still couldn’t tell where the noises had originated. Curious but wary, Peter decided to play it safe for now and continued forward at a snail’s pace. 

Ducking back and forth behind leaves and the human things littering the ground, he only paused long enough to pop his head up to scan for incoming people. As he got closer to the compound, his eyes were drawn to an open doorway leading into the building. The door was missing and the wall surrounding the hole was covered in dark soot and scorch marks, the obvious signs of fire giving Peter pause. He could see a soft light spilling out through the doorway, but couldn’t make out much of the inside from his vantage point behind the tree line.

Peter glanced around once more to check for humans before gathering his courage and making his way toward the entrance. He was halfway to the building when a bright patch of crimson caught his eye. Glancing down, Peter came to a stop above the puddle, tilting his head as he noticed it leading away toward one of the big human machines nearby.

He followed the trail of red around to the opposite side of the machine, only to jerk back fearfully when he came upon a human lying in the dirt beside it. Peter gasped and fled back the way he’d come, hovering behind a piece of metal that jutted out of the machine’s front. The fairy pressed himself close to his cover, listening for movement and hoping that he hadn’t been seen.

Seconds passed in heavy silence, no noise coming from the human. Peter swallowed and peeked around the edge of his hiding place, his eyes watching the man carefully. To his surprise the human remained completely still, his limbs resting heavily in the dirt.

Peter’s gaze travelled over the body, his mind desperate for answers. He noted the man’s dark clothing, ashen face, and the splashes of crimson that crisscrossed them in random patterns. Shock flowed through Peter as realization slowly dawned on him, morbid curiosity drawing him out of hiding and over to the human. As he came closer to the body his suspicions were confirmed, the smell of fresh blood surrounding the corpse like a thick blanket.

Peter covered his mouth in horror and flew up and away from the body. From his new vantage point high in the air, Peter turned in place and gazed at the open expanse of land surrounding the structure. Terror gripped his heart as he spotted additional bodies among the scattered human things, all of them twisted into grotesque positions and bathed in blood. Peter gripped his shirt nervously as tears gathered in his eyes. What on Earth had happened here?

Once more, Peter debated on whether he should continue searching or just leave well enough alone and head back into the forest. Whatever had caused the noises earlier had probably killed all of the humans, so it was clearly something he didn’t want to meet. But then again, what if some of the people here were still alive? What if they were hurt and couldn’t find help?

Peter knew it was dangerous for fairies to approach humans since it put them at risk of capture, but he couldn’t just turn his back on living creatures if they were in trouble. The humans here may need his help, and despite his fear, Peter knew it was his duty to do all he could to assist any remaining people. 

A quick trip around the outside of the building turned up nothing but corpses, which left Peter no choice but to enter the structure and continue his search inside. He flew over to the building’s entrance and hovered near the doorframe, listening for any signs of life. After several tense moments of nothing but the sound of his own breathing and the soft hum of his wings, Peter steeled his resolve and flew over the threshold.

He found himself in a vast open room filled with blood, bodies, and more human trinkets. Peter didn’t recognize most of the items thrown about the room and had no idea what they were or how they were used. The desire to inspect and investigate the human things bubbled up inside him, but Peter tamped it down and instead searched the room for life. When he found nothing but grim faces and mangled limbs, he moved along to the next area, solemn and scared.

Room after room, Peter was met with death and destruction. The walls of the compound were peppered with soot and cracks in the concrete, and some even sported a few holes. Small fires burned throughout the building, the smell of charred skin and clothing almost too much to bear. Peter covered his mouth and nose with his hands as he flew from one side of the structure to the other, his hopes of finding anyone alive depleting with each new room.

Once he reached the far corner of the building, Peter noticed a stairwell leading down to another floor. The door was thrown open and sitting at an odd angle, and the light down below was flickering in and out. Peter flew through the doorway and down the stairs, landing silently on the last step before running to the edge and peering around the landing to get a look at the new location.

The room smelled strongly of an odor Peter had never encountered, the acidic stench burning his nose and throat and making his eyes water. His hands weren’t enough to save him from the smell, so Peter lifted his shirt to cover his nose instead. It helped, but not by much. The fairy’s stomach rolled as he breathed in, making him groan pitifully into the material of his shirt. He’d have to search this floor quickly so he could get back outside and to fresh air.

Hopping off the step and onto the shiny floor below, Peter moved around the corner and into the room proper, his eyes scanning for humans. Though it was difficult with the flickering light above, Peter spotted a few people in bright white coats lying on the floor, their bodies scattered between metal tables and tangled up in strange vines that hung from tall, skinny poles. None of them were moving.

Peter took to the air to get a better view, a splash of red amongst the sea of white instantly catching his attention. He fluttered over to it and landed nearby, studying the strange creature he’d found.

Peter didn’t know what he was looking at. The creature was currently splayed out on its back on the floor, its form appearing human with long legs and muscular arms. But unlike humans, it was covered in an oddly textured skin that was bright red with accents of black. The head, too, was abnormal, covered in the same crimson flesh with two patches of black where eyes should be.

He had never seen anything like this before. He wondered what it was doing here among the humans. Was it a friend? A pet? Whatever it was, it was clear from its many injuries and the stillness of its chest that Peter was too late to save it.

Tears spilled over the fairy’s cheeks and onto his shirt as he turned away to glare at the floor, the shiny surface reflecting his morose image back up at him. He’d searched the entire building and couldn’t find a single human who was still alive. He hadn’t seen anything that could have made the loud sounds from earlier, either, so this entire endeavor had been for naught.

Peter sniffled as he watched his reflection, staring at his own tear stained face. He lowered his shirt back into place and wiped his cheeks, the scent in the room spiking unpleasantly. Peter wrinkled his nose and stretched his wings in preparation for flight, eyes still cast downward, when he was startled by a sudden loud inhale beside him.

Jumping back and staring wide-eyed at the red creature’s body, Peter watched it take a deep breath, its limbs twitching absently. He backed away as the body continued to move, the head turning slightly in Peter’s direction. With a squeak Peter ran to the nearest table and hid behind one of its legs, confusion and shock making his limbs quiver. He watched as the creature rolled onto its stomach with a grunt and climbed to its feet, its large black hands wiping dirt and debris from its front.

Peter’s mouth fell open and he stared up at the creature as it stood tall, glancing around the room with eyes that were a stark white against the black and red of its face. As his shock faded into incredulity, Peter realized that he had been wrong.

This thing was alive.


	2. New Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well it took all day, but I finally finished this chapter! This one is much fluffier, as promised. :)
> 
> Expect updates to slow down as the week progresses. I'm usually too tired after work to do much of anything, especially writing. I'll try to get a little done each night, though, so don't worry. ;)
> 
> Update: More glorious fanart of [Fairy!Peter!](https://littlebink.deviantart.com/art/Fairy-Peter-743062866?ga_submit_new=10%3A1525227692) Thank you, [OliverRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OliverRose/pseuds/OliverRose)!
> 
>     
> 

The creature shifted in place and stretched its limbs, its joints cracking with the effort. It looked around the room absently, head turning left and right. Then, to Peter’s surprise, it started to talk.

“Damn, that was quite a trip. Death sure is a lively lady,” it said jovially, stepping around Peter’s hiding place and moving to one of the bodies on the floor. The creature bent down to dig through the human’s coat pockets, pulling out a vial of bright blue liquid that sloshed thickly inside the tube. “For reals, right?!” it continued, as though someone had answered its earlier comment. “It’s hard to believe she’s so old. I guess it’s true that the elderly still have that spark, huh?”

Peter stared at the creature, watching it pocket the vial in a pouch around its waist as it spoke to seemingly no one. He blinked owlishly, eyes locked on the bright red animal as it stood and made a turn about the room, collecting several of the shiny human trinkets that littered the floor. It took a moment to attach the items to its skin - _How…?_ \- then turned and started for the stairs, the creature’s steps heavy as it ascended.

Peter shook himself from his stupor and gingerly took to the air, following the animal up to the higher level at a safe distance. He noted its movements and its odd behavior, fascinated by the creature’s words and mannerisms. He ignored everything else around him as they moved through the building toward the entrance. Even the horrific smell of the compound was forgotten in lieu of Peter’s new discovery, his inquisitive nature overtaking the anxious fear from earlier.

What was this animal? It could clearly speak, so it wasn’t your everyday woodland creature. In fact, it almost sounded...well, human. But it couldn’t be a human, could it? It looked so different from any of the people Peter had ever encountered. Not that he’d seen very many people in his lifetime, but still…

Once they’d reached the outside of the building, the red thing paused and looked around the open expanse of the clearing, seemingly oblivious to the corpses scattered in the dirt. It scratched its head and stood with its hands on its hips, muttering to itself. Peter landed behind it on one of the building’s slim ledges, trying to make himself as small as possible while he listened to the creature’s rambling.

“I’m starving,” it complained, rubbing its belly with one hand as it spoke. “Must have had more injuries than I thought. I wonder if there’s a restaurant around here?” It tilted its head, almost as though it was listening to something. Peter strained his own ears, trying to hear whoever the thing was talking to, but there was nothing but silence in the clearing.

“I know we’re in the middle of nowhere,” it continued irritably, flailing its arms, “but that doesn’t mean there isn’t a franchise somewhere nearby. Those things are _everywhere_.” It paused again, pacing back and forth along the front of the building, the lull in conversation lasting much longer this time. Peter saw the creature approach several of the bodies in the meantime, pawing through their pockets and grumbling. It scanned each item it found, keeping some for itself and throwing the rest to the ground.

“Whatever,” it blurted abruptly, causing Peter to jump, “it’s not like this’ll be the first time I had to rough it in the wilderness.” Getting back to its feet, the creature stepped over a corpse and walked to an empty patch of dirt. It covered its eyes with one hand and pointed straight ahead with the other, then spun around in quick circles before coming to a stop. The creature dropped the hand from its face and looked in the direction it was pointing, nodding approvingly.

“Looks like we’re going this way,” it said, and just like that, started off into the woods with a skip in its step.

Peter was still at a loss as to what this animal was, but one thing was for sure - he couldn’t just let it wander off unsupervised.

He got to his feet nimbly and flapped his wings, following behind the creature as it stomped through the forest. Peter used leaves and tree branches as cover while he stuck close to his quarry, eavesdropping on the conversation it was having with itself. From its chatter it would seem that the creature was looking for food, though Peter knew there wasn’t anything edible in this part of the forest.

The fairy had just begun to contemplate leading the animal elsewhere when he saw it come upon a black bryony bush. The red thing stopped when it spotted the bush, walking up to the plant to pluck a berry from between the leaves.

_No, no! Not those_! Peter’s brain screamed, his hands flying up to his cheeks as he gasped, only to quickly cover his mouth to smother the noise. He landed on a nearby oak tree branch and ran to the edge, bending down to get a clear view of the creature. He panicked when he saw it raise the berry to its face, a warning shout on the tip of his tongue. However, a sudden thought gave him pause. He couldn't see a mouth on the creature, so how could it eat?

His question was answered when it brought its free hand up to its neck and lifted the bright red skin, revealing a human-like mouth underneath. Peter stared in shock. “ _What_?” he whispered, unsure how to react. He could see that the flesh underneath was mottled and scarred, while parts of it were puffy and inflamed. He fleetingly wondered if it was painful, but his musings were interrupted by a shot of adrenaline when the animal went to pop the berry into its mouth.

“No!” Peter cried, then quickly flattened himself to the bark when the creature turned toward him. Peter breathed hard, panic washing over him as he lay there. He definitely didn’t want to be caught, but he couldn’t let this...whatever it was eat poisonous berries without some kind of warning. He swallowed and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he tried to calm down. He could do this. He’d just have to be careful.

Peter heard the creature murmuring below, something about hearing things, and when he leaned over the side of the branch for a quick peek he saw it place the berry on its tongue. Horror seized Peter as he pushed up from his hiding spot, his hands flying to his hair as he tried to think of a way to stop this creature from inadvertently killing itself.

Thinking quickly, the fairy raced over to a patch of leaves and dug through them until he found an acorn. He tore it from its stem and turned back to the creature, lining up his shot and throwing the seed with all of his strength. The acorn bonked the thing on its temple, tearing a surprised “Ouch!” from the creature before bouncing off to land innocently in the grass.

To make sure he got his point across, Peter cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Don’t! Those are poisonous!” then dove behind the cluster of leaves to hide. Blood rushed in his ears as he listened for movement down below, his heart hammering in his chest. He heard an odd _click_ , and then the creature spoke once more.

“Who’s up there?” it demanded, its voice low and menacing.

“I-” Peter started, his hands shaking, “I’m sorry for hitting you, but those berries are poisonous!” he shouted, gripping one of the oak leaves nervously.

An odd hush settled around them, the creature being truly quiet for what felt like the first time since Peter had found it. He wondered if he should say anything more, but the red thing beat him to it.

“Well, thanks for the warning, but you didn’t actually answer my question. Who the hell are you? Show yourself.”

A bolt of terror raced through Peter at the thought of revealing himself. To be fair, it wasn’t much worse than anything else he’d done today. Heck, just entering a human building had gone against all of his uncle’s rules, but everything had turned out fine in the end. In fact, it had led to him discovering a whole new creature! So, this couldn’t be any worse than that, right? Everything would be okay as long as he was careful, right? Right.

Gathering his courage, Peter slowly pushed the leaves aside and stepped into view, staring down at the creature below. It was pointing one of the human trinkets at him, but other than that, it hadn’t changed its position. Peter waved awkwardly at it and offered a small smile, but it probably looked forced.

The creature blinked up at him in confusion, its white eyes far more expressive than Peter would have imagined. Confusion quickly bled into shock, the creature gaping as it took a step closer, its gaze locked onto him. “Whoa,” it breathed, the awe in its voice putting Peter slightly at ease, “you’re one tiny person.”

“I’m not a person, I’m a fairy,” Peter responded, trying to be brave. “What, um...what are you?” he asked hesitantly, hoping he didn't offend the creature.

“A fairy?” it repeated, eyes wide. “Are you serious? I didn’t know you guys were real!” the red thing shouted, throwing its arms open wide. “And what do you mean, what am I? I’m a human, duh,” it continued, moving to reattach the trinket to its skin, its eyes never leaving Peter.

Peter puzzled over the answer, flapping his wings as he descended from the tree. He made sure to stay out of range of the thing’s arms as he came closer, wanting to get a better look at it. He noted how the other’s eyes tracked his every move, its gaze wary.

“I’ve never seen a human like you,” the fairy said nervously, hovering a few feet above the ground.

“That’s because there ain’t no other human like me,” it - _the human_ \- proclaimed, a grin pulling at his lips. “The name’s Deadpool, by the way. What’s yours, little guy?”

“I’m Peter.”

Deadpool waved up at him, smiling toothily. “Hey Peter, thanks again for the warning. It would have sucked to unalive so soon after I woke up.”

The fairy cocked his head and furrowed his brow at the strange wording, but didn’t question it. Instead he said, “As long as you spat out that berry then you should be okay.”

Deadpool shrugged. “Eh, I actually swallowed it when you hit me in the head with that acorn.”

Peter spluttered at the news, going into full panic mode as he zipped around the human, apologizing profusely. Deadpool laughed good naturedly and held up his hands, urging Peter to calm down. “Don’t worry about it, Petey,” he chuckled, waving away his apologies. “It takes a lot more than a poisonous berry to get me down.”

Deadpool’s confidence alleviated some of Peter’s worry, but he still felt obligated to ask, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, no problem,” Deadpool said, hands on his hips. “Still hungry, though,” he added, taking a moment to glance around them before turning back to Peter. “Hey Pete, do you know where I can get something to eat out here?”

“It’s Peter, and yes, there are some edible berries nearby,” he said, biting his lip as he offered in a small voice, “I can take you to them, if you want?”

“Sounds great, Petey,” Deadpool agreed, motioning for Peter to go ahead of him. “Lead the way!”

Peter nodded and turned, heading in the direction of the berry bushes he’d found earlier, Deadpool trekking close behind him. While they traveled, Peter took the opportunity to ask his new companion a few burning questions he had about human life. Deadpool was happy to oblige, speaking at great length about his second skin (a suit, as he called it), his trinkets (‘guns’, ‘swords’, and a ‘phone’, to name a few), and his home (an amazing place called New York City).

Peter soaked up the new information, his mind buzzing. To think, such wonderful things and places existed! All Peter had ever known was his small piece of the forest, where humans rarely appeared and the only excitement in his life came in the form of the occasional bird attack. Granted, running for your life certainly got the blood pumping, but it did little to alleviate the loneliness and boredom that had settled over Peter since his aunt and uncle passed away.

That’s why it was so great to have someone to talk to again, even if that someone was a human. And despite his uncle’s warnings about people, Peter didn’t think Deadpool was all that bad. In fact, he was kind and seemed entirely unbothered by the fact that Peter was a fairy. He listened as Peter told him about his life in the woods, his inventions, and how much he missed his family. Deadpool told him that he was lonely, too, and then did his best to cheer Peter up with rapid-fire jokes and witty, off-color comments.

By the time they’d reached the berry brush, Peter was in high spirits. He settled with Deadpool among the bushes, chuckling when the human sat heavily with his legs splayed out in front of him. He watched the man pull handfuls of berries off the branches and stuff them into his mouth, the lower half of his face soon covered in bright berry juice. Peter smiled at his new friend from where he stood on top of the bush, balancing on a small twig. He snatched up a fruit and bit into it hungrily, his focus almost entirely on Deadpool. 

After a while of simply talking and laughing, Peter worked up the nerve to flutter down to the ground and land near one of Deadpool’s feet. He waited with bated breath to see how the human reacted, but when all he did was drop a handful of berries next to Peter and lean back on his hands, Peter felt at ease. He plopped down in the grass beside Deadpool’s boot and pulled a berry into his lap, nibbling at it while shooting the human a messy grin.

Deadpool grinned back.

Later, when they were just finishing up their meal, Peter remembered something that had been bugging him since that morning. “Hey Deadpool,” he asked, stealing the man’s attention from what sounded like a heated debate about jelly versus jam, “when I found you back in that building, I didn’t see anything or anyone else around who could have hurt you. So what did it? Was it the boom thing?”

Deadpool crossed his arms over his bent knees and leaned forward, glancing down at Peter. “The boom thing?” he repeated, scratching his head.

“Yeah, you know,” Peter replied, gesturing at the woods around them, “whatever it was that made those booms this morning. I figure it must have been something big and scary, considering how loud it was.”

“Oh, that,” Deadpool said, shaking his head. “Don’t worry Petey, I took care of it.”

Peter gasped and hopped to his feet, running over to grab a hold of the man’s boot. “R-really?” he stuttered, his eyes as wide as saucers. “Wow, you must be really strong! What was it?”

“Eh, just some big guy at the base over there,” Deadpool laughed, hand rubbing the back of his neck bashfully. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“That’s so cool!” Peter gushed, playing with the buckle of Deadpool’s boot absently. “So you’re, like, some kind of warrior or something?”

“Pretty much,” the other man said, preening at Peter’s praise. “In fact, everyone at home considers me a superhero, but I prefer the more humble title of ‘Humanity’s Savior’.“

“Amazing...” Peter breathed reverently, leaning against the man's ankle. He’d never met anyone as interesting as this human.

Deadpool opened his mouth to say more, but paused as though he’d been interrupted. After a moment he sighed and nodded, grumbling, “You’re right,” before sliding his foot gently out of Peter’s grasp.

“Sorry Petey,” he said as he stood and lowered his mask back over his chin, “but I gotta head out.”

“You’re leaving?” Peter asked, his heart dropping into his stomach. Flapping his wings, he flew into the air and hovered in front of Deadpool’s face, wringing his hands anxiously. “Where are you going? Back to New York?”

The human stretched his arms above his head and grunted as his back popped. “Naw, not yet,” he said, arms falling back to his sides. “First I gotta track down another pocket of Hydra agents. Shouldn’t take me too long. Once I’m done with that I can go home.”

“Oh,” Peter mumbled sadly, his eyes downcast. While he was glad that Deadpool didn’t have to leave immediately, he knew it was only a matter of time before he left for good and Peter was on his own. The loneliness that settled over his heart in that moment was almost stifling.

“Well, would it be okay if I went with you to this Hydra pocket?” he pleaded, wishing to stay with his new friend for as long as possible.

Deadpool shook his head, making Peter pout. “Sorry Petey, but it’s too dangerous. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

“Oh,” the fairy repeated, fingers twisting into his shirt again. “Okay. I understand.” He felt his eyes burn with unshed tears, the image of Deadpool blurring into a blob of red. Not wanting to cry in front of the human, Peter rose high up into the trees and sat heavily on a branch, his chin in his hands. “It was nice meeting you, Deadpool,” he called, his voice wobbly.

Peter heard the human’s boots crunching over the grass, moving closer to the tree. “Aw, don’t be sad, Petey,” Deadpool soothed, his voice muffled by the canopy. “How about this? It’ll take me three days to find the next Hydra base and knock it out. When I’m done, I’ll come back here to pick you up and we can fly back to New York together. What do you say?”

It took a second for Peter to make sense of Deadpool’s offer. When it dawned on him, he couldn't help the tiny flicker of hope that filled his chest as he wiped the tears from his face. “Really? You’d take me back with you?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion. A part of him wondered how Deadpool was going to fly to New York when he didn’t have wings, but Peter pushed the question aside for the time being. He’d figure it out later.

“Sure thing, baby boy!” Deadpool shouted with obvious mirth in his voice. “You take the next three days to think it over, and meet me back here. If you still want to leave, then we’ll catch the first flight back to the States.”

“O-Okay!” Peter cried out, jumping up to bounce excitedly on the balls of his feet. “I’ll see you in three days!”


	3. Transition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took a day to write and two days to edit. It was pure hell. D:
> 
> Hope you enjoy it!

Peter returned home shortly after lunchtime. As soon as his feet touched the floor, he ran to the far wall and sat in front of the trunk his uncle had built from moss and birch wood. Peter threw open the lid and dug around inside, pulling out several articles of clothing, his uncle’s old travel bag, and the blanket his Aunt May had sewn for his birthday. He laid everything out gently on the floor, then moved to gather his writing tools and a few odds and ends that held sentimental value.

Peter packed everything into the travel bag until it was fit to burst, then placed it at the foot of his bed and sat lightly on his mattress. He was absolutely brimming with energy, his eyes bright as he glanced out his open doorway, dreaming of all the things he’d see once he reached New York. One in particular was something called a subway, where humans went underground and crowded into huge machines that traveled through tunnels under the city.

Peter wiggled excitedly, desperate to see them and learn how they worked.

But the subway wasn’t the only part of New York that made him giddy with expectation. Deadpool had told him about all the different types of food you could find around the city, as well as the buildings that reached the sky. Just the thought made him dizzy, and he yearned to fly above the city just to see if he could. He’d sit atop one of the buildings - skyscrapers, as Deadpool had called them - and look down on all the humans below as they milled about, filling the city with noise, movement, and life.

Peter figured that it was impossible to be lonely in a place like New York City.

Filled with ideas and daydreams, Peter wiled away the following hours planning his upcoming adventure. However, by nightfall, he was starting to have doubts. He started pacing from one end of his home to the other, biting his nails and fretting. What if he didn’t like the city? What if the humans tried to capture him? To hurt him? His uncle’s warning echoed in his mind like a scream, urging him to stay far away from people.

Peter tried to shrug off his nervous jitters, but fear kept niggling at the back of his mind. Deadpool was a wonderful human, but what if he was the only one? He’d even said that no other human was like him, so did that mean that all the rest were bad? Was New York going to be filled with humans like the ones his uncle had cautioned him about? The very thought was unnerving.

Peter’s worries hounded him for the remainder of the night, and by the next day his stomach was in knots. He skipped breakfast and spent the morning tinkering around his home in an attempt to calm his nerves. As he worked, he mulled over the pros and cons of going to New York with Deadpool versus staying in the forest.

The city would obviously be more exciting, with its wide array of different people and places to visit. Visiting New York would give Peter the perfect opportunity to learn more about the world and humans in general. But on the flip side, the city would be far more dangerous - filled with strange machines, trinkets, and people who might want to capture him.

After going in circles for the majority of the day, Peter had narrowed everything down to the two worst case scenarios: he could live out his life in the forest, weary and isolated, or risk accepting Deadpool’s offer and possibly end up trapped in a mason jar.

In the end, Peter realized that he’d rather jump headfirst into a murky unknown than stay cooped up here any longer.

Decision made, Peter spent the remainder of his time cleaning out his house and saying goodbye to the forest. He visited all of his favorite sights, ate his fill of the fresh fruit that spotted the underbrush, and played with the animals in the grass. As he did, an unexpected sadness began to blossom in his chest. Flitting from one area to the next, Peter drank in the beauty of the forest with a heavy heart.

He had a lot of fond memories of these woods. He’d spent many years with his family here, as well as countless hours exploring the land. And, despite leaving of his own free will, the finality of his departure brought tears to his eyes.

Peter brushed the wetness from his cheeks with shaky fingers, assuring himself that this was for the best.

When the day had finally arrived for him to meet up with Deadpool, Peter rushed to the clearing before the first rays of sunlight filtered over the hills. He perched himself on a low hanging branch and set his uncle’s travel bag beside him, his stomach filled with butterflies.

The wait was downright excruciating. He’d taken to wandering from one end of the branch to the other, biting his nails down to stubs as he glanced at the horizon for any sign of Deadpool. The longer it took for the human to arrive, the tenser Peter became.

Soon, doubt began to eat away at Peter’s resolve. _Deadpool didn’t forget about me, right?,_ he wondered in a panic, but dismissed the thought with a shake of his head. No, no, this had been Deadpool’s idea. He wouldn’t just forget!

Peter crossed his arms and quit his pacing to look out into the forest, scanning between the trees for a blur of red. He considered the possibility that the human had gotten lost, as Deadpool didn’t seem to know these woods too well. Heck, he would have poisoned himself if Peter hadn’t stepped in.

The fairy grasped the collar of his shirt and worried his lip between his teeth. _Deadpool was the one who chose the meeting place, so he has to know where to go, right?,_ he reasoned, desperate to rationalize the man’s absence.

He fretted until well into the morning, his thoughts muddled with questions and uncertainty. Peter had just reached the point of scouting the forest for signs of his friend when a familiar voice echoed through the trees.

“White, could you kindly shut the hell up?” it yelled, its tone a reprimand. “I know what I’m doing. See? Things are already looking familiar.”

Peter grinned and relief washed over him when he realized that Deadpool had kept his promise. He abandoned his bag on the limb and fluttered down out of the canopy, heading in the direction of the man’s irritated muttering. He located him easily, the crimson of his suit a beacon among the bright green of the trees.

“Deadpool!” he shouted, waving madly. “Deadpool! Over here!”

The human’s head tilted toward him, the man’s smile obvious even through his mask. “Hey Baby Boy!” Deadpool answered, waving back. “Sorry it took so long! I guess I got a little turned around.”

Peter was about to answer, but he hesitated when the other’s hand froze in the air and he went quiet for a second. “Yes, I’m aware of that, Yellow,” the hero grumbled a few seconds later, his arm dropping to his side as he glared at the ground. “You don’t have to be such an asshole about it.”

“Deadpool?” Peter called kindly, catching the other’s attention again. “Are you okay?”

He smiled when those white eyes locked with his.

“Yeah, Baby Boy, I’m the bee’s knees right now,” Deadpool assured, speaking at his usual breakneck pace. “Like I said, I got lost but I’m here now so let’s get this show on the road, huh?”

Peter agreed wholeheartedly, hurrying back to collect his bag. He and Deadpool then set off into the forest, the human leading the way while Peter flew above him, lugging his heavy cargo with both hands. Deadpool instantly fell into a long-winded explanation detailing their upcoming flight back to the city. He informed Peter that they were going to be riding in something called a jet, his description of the machine giving Peter the impression of a giant metal bird.

While Deadpool kept the majority of the conversation going, Peter did his best to participate in any way he could. He told the human about the preparations he’d made before he left, and also shared his concerns about the trip. A dark blush burned his cheeks as he spoke, the fairy shamefully embarrassed by his insecurities. But Deadpool was able to set his mind at ease, assuring Peter that there were all types of humans in New York.

“There’s this guy there, Captain America,” Deadpool gushed, vibrating with excitement. “He’s the one I modeled my life after. The first true hero of the world.”

“Wow…” Peter whispered, his imagination running wild. For someone as courageous as Deadpool to idolize him, this Captain America must be an impressive man.

Deadpool nodded sagely at Peter’s breathless awe, his eyes bright. “Yeah, he’s amazing, Petey. He’s not the only one, either. There are lots of other superheroes in New York. I’ll have to introduce you to them sometime.”

“Yes, please!” Peter begged, fluttering next to Deadpool’s head. “I’d love to meet them all.”

“No problem, Baby Boy. We’re all best buds, so I’ll just make a few phone calls and boom - superhero house party!”

“That’s wonderful, Deadpool!” Peter cheered, a grin stretching across his face. “You know so many interesting people. I can’t help but be jealous!”

“Now, now, no need for jealousy,” the man said, giggling behind his hand. “I’m sure they’re going to love you, Petey-Pie.”

Peter took a deep breath at the assurance, the butterflies in his stomach starting to dissipate. “I sure hope so. Maybe if I make friends with all of the nice humans, the bad ones will leave me alone.”

“Maybe,” Deadpool agreed easily, stepping over a fallen log. “But even if they don’t, you got nothing to worry about, Baby Boy. If anyone tries to hurt you, I’ll take care of them.”

Peter smiled, touched by the offer. He extended the other man his heartfelt thanks, truly grateful for all of Deadpool’s help. To think that he had one of humanity’s greatest heroes for a friend…! He was so lucky!

They continued their trek through the woods at a steady pace, and by the end of an hour Peter’s arms had slowly begun to go numb. He grunted, shifting the strap of his bag to get the blood flowing back to his fingers. Before long his muscles started to quiver with fatigue, the burning pain in his arms refusing to let up.

Deadpool must have heard his whispered complaints, because he immediately cut off his tirade about knockoff sitcoms and stilled, his gaze falling on Peter.

“What’s up, Petey-Pie? You having some trouble?”

“I, uh...well, yeah,” he admitted, wings flapping hard to stay aloft. “I guess I’m not used to carrying something so heavy. Not for so long, at least,” he finished lamely.

Deadpool smiled up at him. “Well hell, Pete, why didn’t you just say so? I can carry it for you, if you want.”

“Really? Are you sure? I mean, I don’t want to impose…”

The human laughed and slapped a hand to his muscular chest with a loud _thwap_. “Are you kidding, Baby Boy? With my impressive stature and sexy bod, it’s no imposition at all. Go on, give it here.”

Peter flew down to rest on Deadpool’s shoulder and lifted his bag with both hands in offering. Deadpool reached up and grasped Peter’s belongings, shifting to tuck them away inside a pouch around his waist.

“There we go, Petey. All safe and sound,” he said, patting his pocket.

“Thanks,” Peter said sincerely, shaking the soreness from his fingers. “Do you mind if I sit here and rest for a second?”

“No problemo, Pete. Mi hombro es tu hombro, as they say.”

Peter chuckled and settled atop the man’s shoulder, folding his wings behind his back to give them a break. He leaned forward casually and rested his elbows on his knees, his gaze on Deadpool. The human had fallen right back into his critique of evening television, the majority of his points lost on Peter. When the fairy mentioned as much, Deadpool gasped dramatically and pressed his palms to his cheeks in mock horror.

“That’s right, Petey’s never known the beauty that is Golden Girls!” he cried to no one in particular. “Of course he wouldn’t have any reference to compare with today’s garbage!”

Peter startled when the man turned his head to face him, Deadpool’s neck cracking loudly at the action. “Don’t worry, Baby Boy,” he continued in a serious tone. “I’ll show you all the classics when we get to my apartment. It hurts my heart knowing your eyes have never gazed upon the perfection that is Bea Arthur.”

“O-Okay,” Peter agreed uncertainly, not understanding what he’d gotten himself into.

They carried on through the woods with Peter remaining atop Deadpool’s shoulder, excusing his laziness by claiming fatigue. To be honest, he was just enjoying the ride, swinging his legs merrily and leaning back on his palms. With an enormous grin on his face, Peter closed his eyes and basked in the mid-day sun.

The comfortable atmosphere shattered as human voices loomed in the distance, the sound rising above the normal chatter of the forest. Peter sat up as tension filled his body, scooting closer to Deadpool’s neck in search of cover. He hated being out in the open like this, but he trusted the hero to keep him safe.

For his part, Deadpool was incredibly unconcerned about the noise. He marched right through the underbrush and out into an open field, shouting a greeting to the humans. Peter squeaked in alarm at the revealed sight of people milling about, their presence dwarfed by an enormous machine that had settled on the grass. The fairy had never seen anything like it, its sleek edges and shiny coating both fascinating and daunting.

Peter swallowed thickly and curled against the material of Deadpool’s suit, trying to make himself as small as possible. He studied the people nervously, noting that one stationed near the back of the machine had spotted them and was waving Deadpool over. The hero crossed the fielded area and headed toward the human, his gloved hand coming up to drape protectively around Peter as they closed in. When they came to a halt in front of the other man, Deadpool returned the greeting animatedly.

“Hello fellow SHIELD agent! Fancy meeting you here.”

“You’re not a SHIELD agent, Wade,” the man answered patiently, his eyes scanning the clipboard in his hands.

“‘Course I am,” Deadpool persisted. “I’m on the payroll, aren’t I?”

“Only on special occasions.”

Deadpool grunted and mocked getting punched in the gut. “You wound me, Agent!”

“You’ll get over it,” the man assured, finally looking up. He locked eyes with Deadpool, but then his gaze quickly shifted over to Peter. As the agent stared at him through the gaps of Deadpool’s fingers, the human’s face went through an array of emotions: from shock to disbelief to doubt, then finally to incredulity.

“Mr. Wilson, what is that?” he asked, watching Peter closely.

“Huh? What is what?”

“That,” the agent sputtered, pointing at Peter. “That...tiny person sitting on your shoulder. What the hell is that?”

“It’s a tiny person sitting on my shoulder,” Deadpool answered, as though it was obvious.

“Yes, I can see that!” the man growled, his focus back on the hero. “ _Who_ is the tiny person sitting on your shoulder?”

“Oh!” Deadpool said, slapping his head harshly. “You must be talking about Peter. Peter, say hi to the nice agent.”

Peter lifted a hand meekly. “Um, hi.”

The agent stood there dumbly, glancing from Peter to Deadpool. He appeared to be at a loss for words, only pulled from his stupor when Deadpool slapped a heavy hand on his shoulder.

“Well! This sure has been fun, Agent, but I’m itching to get home. Is the jet fueled and ready to go?”

“Y-Yes,” the man stammered, coming back to his senses, “we’re ready when you are.”

“Great!” Deadpool shouted, throwing his hands into the air. “Let’s get this party started!”

The hero skipped around the agent and to the back of the jet, the other man watching them as they passed. Peter heard him whisper an awed, “ _Fairy…,_ ” before Deadpool turned the corner and the man disappeared from view. Peter stuck close to his friend and focused his attention ahead, his wide eyes taking in every detail.

The back of the jet was open, revealing a large cavern inside where human trinkets and gadgetry lined each of the walls. A ramp had been lowered to the grass to allow entrance into the machine, the thick metal shining in the noon-day sun. Peter could see multi-colored lights glistening inside, as well as plush chairs, multiple maps, and several sets of human clothing stored in bins.

He jolted when Deadpool squealed with childlike delight and plodded up the ramp into the belly of the jet. The hero located an empty seat near the entrance and practically fell into it, his back to the wall. He settled down into the cushy material, vibrating with excitement.

“Isn’t this cool, Petey?!” he yelled, pawing at the seats to either side of them. “We get to ride in one of SHIELD’s super special secret Jump Jets!” Deadpool started wiggling in his chair and clasped his hands in front of his chest, appearing overcome with emotion. “Oh, this is the best Christmas, ever!”

Peter was too overwhelmed to respond, surveying their new location in silent wonder. His mind buzzed with the need to know how it all worked. He stood on wobbly legs and looked around them, wide-eyed and eager to explore.  Besides the countless lights and panels lining the inside of the jet, he also recognized bigger versions of the ‘gun’ things Deadpool had shown him the day they met.

He’d set his sights on a particularly sleek looking model when the stomping of human feet filled the air. Peter jerked in place then dove into the space between Deadpool’s back and the seat, his breaths quickening as the agent and five other humans came up the ramp.

“Everyone to your stations!” the agent ordered sternly, the entrance to the jet sealing behind him.

“Yes, sir!” they all shouted back, followed closely by Deadpool’s less formal, “Yessiree, sir!”

The humans scattered and took their seats, two at the front of the jet while the other four settled on the opposite side from Deadpool. Peter was thankful for the space between himself and the others, far more comfortable with his friend than the strangers sitting across the way. He listened curiously as the agent barked additional orders from his seat in the front, most if not all of his words foreign to Peter. Deadpool just hummed contentedly beneath him, uncaring of the other humans. The hero’s relaxed attitude was a comfort to Peter, who figured that if a hero like Deadpool was unconcerned then he should be, too.

The fairy set about getting situated at the base of Deadpool’s neck, trying to find a comfortable position for his legs. He squeaked and froze when the jet gave a sudden lurch, a frightening roar filling the compartment. Peter immediately flattened himself to the hero’s upper back, grasping his suit tightly between his fingers.

“What’s happening?!” Peter cried, tucking his face into the man’s shirt. “What’s that noise?!”

“It’s just the engines starting up, Baby Boy!” Deadpool answered, his voice almost lost to the din. “Nothing to sneeze at.”

“I didn’t sneeze!” Peter shouted back, completely frazzled. “And what do you mean by ‘engines’? I thought we were flying to New York!”

“We are, Petey,” Deadpool assured, turning his head this way and that to try and see Peter. “We’re not getting there with wings, though. This thing flies using fancy-schmancy technology and good ol' jet fuel. It’ll quiet down once we’re in the air, so sit tight and enjoy the ride.”

Peter’s fearful response was cut short when the jet quivered and teetered forward at a harsh angle, the shift in gravity pulling the fairy’s stomach into his feet. He whimpered but stayed where he was, white-knuckling Deadpool’s suit and praying that they made it to New York in one piece.

They ascended rapidly, Peter’s heart in his throat, but soon the jet was leveling out and the noise from the engines softened into a pleasant rumble. Once his stomach had stopped doing flips, Peter slowly eased his grip and sat up, climbing Deadpool’s back to peak over his shoulder. He spotted the people sitting across from them, the men speaking quietly to one another.

Feeling emboldened without their eyes on him, Peter gently slid back onto his friend’s shoulder, being careful not to draw their attention. Once in place he nestled against Deadpool’s neck with his hands in his lap, listening to the ambient noise of the cabin.

Peter sat there for a lengthy amount of time, simply concentrating on Deadpool’s renewed humming while covertly watching the other humans. As time passed and the trip remained uneventful, Peter began to feel groggy. He was just starting to nod off when a sudden thought brought him back to full consciousness. Something the agent guy had said earlier was bugging him, so Peter figured now was as good a time as any to get some clarification.

“Deadpool,” he whispered, leaning up to put his face close to the man’s ear, “why did Agent call you ‘Wade’?”

The hero blinked at the abrupt question and stopped his humming, his head tilting in Peter’s direction to hide him from view. “Because that’s my name, Baby Boy,” he answered, the other humans looking at him strangely as he spoke.

Peter’s brow crinkled. “But I thought your name was Deadpool?” he asked, confused.

“Deadpool is my superhero name,” the man explained with a flick of the wrist. “My everyday name is Wade Wilson. It’s what my friends call me.”

“Oh,” Peter said, thrown for a loop. He cocked his head and looked at Deadpool with a guarded expression, his mind turning thoughtfully. Peter bit his lip and skimmed his fingers over the material of the other man’s mask, mulling over his next question carefully.

“Can... I call you Wade?” he asked hesitantly, a light blush dusting his cheeks.

“Sure, Petey,” Wade answered with an easy laugh. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

A smile pulled at the edges of Peter’s lips. “Yeah,” he agreed with a pleased sigh, snuggling closer. “Yeah, we are.”


	4. Arrival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, chapter 4 is here! I dad it, you guys! :D
> 
> I'm going to try and get ch 5 written and posted tomorrow, too, but I can't make any promises. See, I got a FitBit today and it's already yelling at me for being a lazy fatty, so I'll probably have to do some exercise tomorrow and that'll severely cut into my writing time. -le sigh-

Peter had remained pressed against Wade’s neck throughout the beginning of the flight, but it didn’t take long for the human to get antsy with cabin fever. Wade went from humming to squirming to fidgeting endlessly in his seat, mumbling under his breath and bouncing his knee with excess energy. His constant flow of movement and words captured the attention of everyone else on the flight, leaving Peter nervous and jittery.

At first he tried to remain hidden on Wade’s shoulder by sticking close to his body, but his friend’s head kept turning from side to side at every noise and minor distraction. Peter felt far too exposed out in the open, so he slowly eased his way over the hero’s shoulder and settled between the man’s back and the seat. This position proved only mildly better, as it successfully concealed Peter from view but also left him at the mercy of Wade’s incessant shifting.

After being squished one too many times between Wade’s muscular back and the seat cushion, Peter fought to right himself and grabbed fistfulls of the man’s suit. Using them as handholds, he climbed up the ridge of muscle to settle against the back of Wade’s neck, sighing once he’d made it.

Clearly, this set up was not going to work. They’d have to figure out some other way for Peter to stick close to Wade - otherwise, the fairy didn’t think he’d make it to New York unscathed.

Deciding to talk it over with Wade, Peter checked to make sure none of the humans were outright staring at them before leaning toward his friend’s ear to whisper, “Wade?”

The hero’s head swiveled around in the direction of Peter’s voice, giving an interested hum to show that he was listening. Peter flexed his hands and gripped Wade’s shirt tightly, continuing in a small voice, “I want to stay near you, but I don’t like being out in the open. I’m scared that the humans will see me.”

“You don’t have to be afraid, Petey,” Wade assured in a quiet murmur. “I won’t let them hurt you.”

“I know, but I can’t help it. I’m still nervous.”

Wade tilted his head and went quiet, probably thinking over their options. It took a few seconds, but he eventually offered what sounded like a good compromise.

“How about you hide in one of my pouches?” he suggested, patting one with his large hand. “It would be nice and cozy for you, you’d stay close to me for the rest of the trip, and there’s no way anyone would see you.”

Peter glanced at the pouch, thinking it over. Wade’s idea made sense to him, and it wouldn’t take much effort for Peter to drop down and climb inside. If he timed it right, he bet he could do it without being seen.

“Okay,” he agreed, moving down Wade’s body toward the pouch he’d gestured at before, “that sounds good.”

Peter made his way to the hero’s belt and used the other’s hand as cover to shield himself from view as he maneuvered inside the pouch. He lifted the top flap out of the way and lowered himself in feet first, his head disappearing beneath the rim of the material. He released the flap as he landed at the bottom of the pouch, darkness taking over as the light from outside was cut off.

Now hidden from the prying eyes of the other passengers, Peter felt safe. He shuffled around the inside of the compartment, trying to get himself situated. His feet slipped on the trinkets that were sharing his hiding spot, the fairy cursing as he took a tumble and bonked his head on something. He couldn’t even look to see what it was, what with the darkness surrounding him on all sides.

Peter groaned as he sat up, the objects beneath him digging into his behind. Eugh. He needed to shed some light on his situation pronto, if only to save himself from further injury.

Climbing to his feet, Peter fought to keep his balance as he reached toward the top of the pouch, the task made difficult by whatever it was he was standing on. The little bits of metal rolled and slid against each other as Wade shifted positions, making it almost impossible for Peter to find his footing. With a grunt he flung himself against the side of the pocket, stretching his upper body and reaching for the opening. He cheered silently when his fingers brushed the edge, and with a mighty heave Peter pulled himself up and lifted the top off the pouch. The flap opened marginally, but it was enough to allow light to spill past the threshold and into the compartment, momentarily blinding him.

Peter blinked for a second to give his eyes time to adjust, then peeked his head up to get a clear view outside. His focus jumped from one thing to another, taking in all of the flashing lights and shiny machinery that littered the inside of the jet. He watched everything blur as Wade suddenly shot to his feet, the unexpected change in position giving Peter a headrush. He ducked down when the humans across the aisle all turned to watch the hero curiously, one of them going so far as to ask what Wade was doing.

“Just stretching my legs, guys!” Wade answered jovially as he moved away, beginning to wander about the cabin. The hero proceeded to pace back and forth across the entire floor of the jet, the other people glaring irritably whenever he passed. While Wade mostly ignored them, he would stop from time and time and attempt to start a conversation. None of the humans seemed interested, though.

In the meantime, Peter happily took the opportunity to drink in the sight of all the strange gadgets, his mind racing with ideas concerning their purposes. While his focus was mostly on the mechanics of the jet, the fairy also marveled at the machine’s design and structure. He even made note of multiple windows spaced along the walls, the dark evening sky beyond a familiar sight that soothed his nerves somewhat.

As he continued to study the inner workings of the jet from the safety of Wade’s pouch, the hero’s long strides carried them swiftly through the closed space. Peter perked up when they neared the front of the machine, where two people sat at a panel of switches and buttons that the fairy yearned to touch. He recognized one as the agent from before, and with a start Peter realized that the human was looking straight at him.

Peter yelped and escaped back into the safety of the pouch, his heart beating rapidly. He gulped when he heard the agent’s muffled voice addressing Wade, the hero answering in a deep rumble. They chatted back and forth for what felt like ages to Peter, the fairy curling up into a ball and wringing his hands anxiously.

 _It’s okay_ , he reminded himself, trying to stay calm, _Wade won’t let anything happen to me._

The voices outside went from soft muttering to harsher grunts as the conversation progressed, Wade’s tone eventually dropping into a threatening murmur. Agent went silent for a moment before releasing an irritated breath, his answer low but resigned. Peter felt Wade back away, then turn and continue walking as though he hadn’t been interrupted.

Peter slumped against the metal things beneath him, the adrenaline draining from his body. _Thank goodness_ , he thought, sighing with relief. He rolled onto his back so the objects weren’t digging into his side, then played with the idea of standing up and returning to his study of the jet. However, as soon as the thought flashed through his mind, a bone-deep tiredness washed over Peter. It seemed like his lack of sleep and the excitement of the day were finally starting to take their toll.

Yawning wide, the fairy scooted back to rest his head against the side of the pouch, his eyes closing wearily. Peter twisted and turned to find a comfortable position, then curled into a ball and tried to relax. Sleep claimed him within a matter of minutes.

He was jolted awake sometime later when the world around him lurched forward, dragging the fairy with it. Peter was jerked to the side and fell into the coarse material of the pouch, his ears ringing as the roar of the engines built up into a screaming crescendo. Peter threw his hands over his ears and squeezed his eyes shut, curling his knees to his chest to protect himself in case he was thrown around again.

He wondered briefly what was happening, but just as in the beginning of their flight, the rattling and noise settled down almost as quickly as it had started. Peter could feel the jet come to a smooth stop, the engines switching off soon after to leave everything in a heavy silence. For a moment he wasn’t sure if he should stand up or not, but his decision was made for him when Wade jumped to his feet, jostling Peter inside his hiding spot.

 _Maybe I should stay still for awhile_ , the fairy mused, slightly exasperated as he lay haphazardly among the other trinkets in Wade’s pouch. _Smacking my head once was enough - I’m not in any hurry to relive the experience._

So, Peter dutifully stayed inside the compartment and listened as the silence of the jet gave way to a strange _creek_ , followed by an influx of human voices and conversation. Peter felt the movement as Wade walked to the side and then downward at a slight angle, the _clomp_ of his boots on metal a familiar sound.

 _The ramp_ , Peter’s mind supplied helpfully. At least now he knew that they’d landed.

Wade’s gait leveled out when he reached the bottom of the ramp, though by the sound of it his feet didn’t hit grass. Instead, he seemed to be walking over stone or rock, his footfalls hitting the ground with solid _thumps_. The cluster of human voices rose steadily around them as Wade continued on, Peter’s heart pounding as he imagined just how many people were nearby.

The fairy couldn’t make out any particular words or phrases, but that didn’t keep him from trying. He pressed his ear to the side of the pouch, his brows knitting together in concentration. Peter could hear both men and women on the other side, multiple conversations and discussions melting into an indistinguishable din. Amongst the human voices Peter also picked up on a cacophony of footsteps, as well as the occasional _beep_ or sharp _hiss_ of machinery.

Peter didn’t know what to make of it. Where were they? What was happening?

It felt like ages before the sounds of human activity began to die down, and with a final _clunk_ Peter and Wade were enveloped in a muted calm.

“You doing alright, Pete?” Wade asked abruptly, his hand appearing as the flap of the pouch was lifted up and away. “Sorry for all the mystery. It wasn’t safe to talk until I got somewhere more private.”

“I-I’m good,” Peter answered timidly, one hand held aloft to shield his face from the light. “Where are we, Wade? Are we in New York?”

“You bet your cute butt we are, Petey!” Wade crowed excitedly, his head barely visible over the lip of the pouch. “Wanna take a look?”

“Yes!” Peter shouted, climbing to his feet. Wade offered him a finger which Peter gladly accepted. He held on tightly to the digit as the hero lifted him up and out of the compartment, his arm raising Peter into the air to dangle over Wade’s shoulder. The fairy released the finger to land lightly beside the hero’s head, thanking Wade before turning in a circle to look at their surroundings.

They were standing in a large room with a table in the center, a collection of plush chairs stationed around it. One of the walls was covered in windows, the bright light of early morning filtering through. Gadgets similar to those on the jet were scattered around, including something huge and shiny hanging on the far wall.

Peter couldn’t see any humans aside from Wade, which suited the fairy just fine.

He flexed his wings and took to the air, flying from one corner of the room to the other. It felt wonderful to fly again, his back muscles stiff from disuse. He indulged in some acrobatics, grinning when he heard Wade applaud from his spot in front of the closed door. Peter waved at the man as he fluttered by, then turned and approached the window. He landed on the ledge and pressed his face against the glass, his wide eyes taking in one of the most breathtaking sites he’d ever seen.

“What is _that_?” he breathed in awe, his ears picking up the sound of Wade’s footsteps coming up behind him.

“ _That_ is New York City, Petey.”

Peter couldn’t believe his eyes. It was _gorgeous_. From what he could see, they were high above the ground overlooking what must have been hundreds of humans milling about down below. Huge machines zipped by, their colors bright and cheery. The entire scene was almost too much to process. There was just so much light, sound, and movement that it made Peter’s head spin.

“Oh Wade, this is amazing!” he cried, tears of happiness pooling on his eyelids. “It’s so much better than I could have ever imagined!”

“And that ain’t even the half of it, Pete,” Wade bragged as he knelt down so he was level with Peter. “This is only a small part of the city.”

“Really?” Peter asked, wiping his eyes before glancing at Wade.

“Oh yeah. See this building we’re in?” the hero said, gesturing at the ceiling. “It may be huge, but it’s just SHIELD’s home base. There are plenty of other buildings in the city that have nothing to do with SHIELD.”

“What’s SHIELD?” Peter asked curiously, thinking the name odd.

“Oh, they’re the agency that sent me to England in the first place,” Wade explained, shrugging indifferently. “I guess you could say they’re like the guard dog of humanity. They take it upon themselves to go after bad guys and try to keep everyone safe.”

Peter gaped. “Wow, that must be really difficult!”

Wade shrugged. “I suppose. SHIELD is _always_ asking me for my assistance, you know,” he sighed, leaning his elbows on the windowsill next to Peter. “It’s so tiring, but I try to help them out whenever I have time.”

Peter gave his friend a gentle smile. “You’re a true hero, Wade,” Peter said, pushing away from the window to stand beside the man’s elbow. “It’s so good of you to help SHIELD.”

Wade turned to him with a wide grin. “Oh Petey, I don’t mind at all. It wasn’t a tough mission this time around, anyway.”

“What did they want you to do?”

The hero shrugged, nonplussed. “They wanted me to locate some secret Hydra bases and secure a sample of the serum they’d been creating.”

“What’s Hydra? And what kind of serum were they making?” Peter wondered, moving closer to place his hands on Wade’s arm.

“They’re an evil organization that wants to destroy humanity or something, so any serum they make is bad news. But none of that matters now, ‘cause I took care of ‘em.”

Peter stared in shocked silence, then bit his lip and leaned forward, his eyes bright. “That’s amazing, Wade!”

Wade put one hand to his cheek bashfully. “Aww, thanks Baby Boy! I do what I can,” he said, sliding his arm out of Peter’s grasp and standing. He brushed off his knees then bent down to offer his palm to Peter. “You ready to see the rest of New York, Pete?”

Peter nodded and jumped onto the offered hand, clinging to Wade’s thumb as the man carried him to the door. The hero helped Peter back into his pouch and waited until the fairy gave the go-ahead, then opened the door and stepped outside into the hallway. It was wide and made of shiny stone and metal, the walls covered in doors, maps, and framed pictures. There were several humans walking up and down the hall, but they only threw Wade a fleeting glance before moving on.

“Alright, Baby Boy, time to hit the road,” Wade announced quietly, his footsteps light over the polished floor. They made their way down the hallway, through a side door, and descended multiple flights of stairs before coming across a huge open area filled with humans. Wade made a beeline for the double doors at the far end of the room, only to be stopped by another agent several yards from his goal.

“Mr. Wilson,” the agent said serenely, standing in the hero’s path, “I’m glad I caught you. Agent Kline mentioned something strange in today’s mission report, and I wanted to take a moment to discuss it with you.” As he spoke, the man’s eyes traveled over Wade’s shoulders and down his chest, searching. Peter ducked inside his pouch to stay hidden, but he could clearly hear Wade’s booming voice as he answered.

“Hah, no can do, Coully! See, I got places to be, people to meet, and daytime t.v. to watch. I’ll pencil you in for next Thursday, though. How does 11:37 pm sound?”

“Mr. Wilson,” Coully continued, calm and collected, “I don’t think you understand. I need to speak with you immediately. If you could please follow me to debriefing room 12, I’d appreciate it.”

“Ouch, sorry, can’t,” Wade refused, hands moving to his hips. “Debriefing room 12 and I aren’t on good terms. Incendiaries, property damage, you know - the usual.”

Wade then tried to sidestep the agent, but the man moved with him. The two stopped and stared at one another, the tension building between them so thick that it made Peter nervous.

“Don’t make me force you, Mr. Wilson,” the agent said, his tone light but demanding.

Wade chuckled, though it was bereft of his normal humor. “You’re a real card, Coully,” he murmured, closing in on the agent until they were standing nose to nose. “Go ahead, then. I’d love to see you try.”

As the men continued to watch each other, Peter peered up at them from his hiding place in utter confusion. What were they talking about? Why did Wade sound so angry? The agent man wasn’t upset, so why would Wade be? None of this made any sense.

The battle of wills ended when Coully backed away, giving Wade a wide berth. “That’s alright, Mr. Wilson,” he acquiesced, his tone easygoing. “I’ll speak to you later. Sorry to hold you up.” He then nodded and smiled politely, passing Wade to head deeper into the building as though nothing had occurred.

Peter blinked and watched him go, then swiveled his head to stare up at Wade. The hero was turned toward the retreating agent, his face hidden from Peter. The fairy reached out of the pouch to poke Wade in the side in an attempt to get his attention. When his friend’s expressive face glanced his way, Peter was relieved to find nothing out of the ordinary. Wade looked as jovial as he ever had.

“Are you okay?” Peter whispered anyway, wanting to make sure.

Wade’s smile widened and he nodded. Then he lifted a finger to his lips and shushed Peter quietly, gesturing at the double doors with his chin. The message was clear: wait until we get outside.

The hero dropped his arms to his sides and continued toward the exit, the light from outside immediately blinding Peter when Wade passed through the door. The fairy rubbed his eyes with his free hand while he held onto the rim of the pouch for dear life with the other. Once he’d adjusted to the brightness, Peter blinked and gazed out at the city unfolding around them, his jaw dropping in astonishment.

There were people _everywhere_! They flowed around Wade’s body like water, all of them moving swiftly and talking amongst themselves. The machines that Peter had seen earlier from the window were directly in front of him now, all of them making a similar rumbling noise to that of the jet. Peter wondered briefly if they had an engine, too.

He only had a couple seconds to compose himself before Wade set off into the throngs of people, talking animatedly to Peter about his home city. After assuring him that New Yorkers wouldn’t think twice about a guy in red spandex muttering to himself on the street, Wade took his time showing Peter around. He pointed out the machines driving up and down the street - _cars_ \- and described all the buildings to Peter as they passed - _shops, restaurants, businesses_.

Everything Peter saw amazed him, his brain overwhelmed by all of the new information. Wade was an excellent tour guide, spouting endless amounts of facts and funny asides about all that New York had to offer. He told Peter about the museums, the zoos, the fancy hotels where rich people paid good money to sleep on gross beds, and even caught a bus to the pier to show Peter the Statue of Liberty.

Peter was so happy he couldn’t help but bounce on his toes as Wade pointed at every little thing, a wide grin splitting his face. He practically squealed when their next bus pulled up to the station and Wade took his seat in the back, the hero gripping Peter gently in his fist to hold him up to the window. The fairy’s joy must have been infectious, because Wade was laughing and smiling right along with him, his body turned to watch the people zipping by.

This time the two traveled to the other end of the city, where Wade’s apartment was located. Peter returned to his pouch while they walked from the bus station to the old building where Wade lived, the human taking the stairs two at a time up to his floor. The man dug his keys out of one of his pockets and slid it into the lock, turning the knob. He paused just as he was about to open the door, his eyes on Peter and his tone playful as he asked, “You ready to see Casa de Deadpool, Petey?”

Peter nodded enthusiastically, biting his lip and fidgeting with the rim of Wade’s pouch while he waited with bated breath. Then, without further adiu, the hero finally pushed the door aside and stepped over the threshold into his apartment. He stopped just inside the doorway, throwing his arms out wide as he shouted, “Welcome, Baby boy! Make yourself at home!”

Peter slowly climbed out of the pouch and fluttered into the air, his gaze roving over Wade’s apartment in wonder. There were a few things he recognized from the jet and his friend’s tour - a television, floor lamp, a small table, and two cushy chairs (one large and one small) - as well as some he didn’t. Peter investigated it all, landing on the back of one the seats to get a view of the room.

“Wade, I love your apartment!” Peter gushed, turning to the human as he came closer. “It’s so...big!”

“That’s what she said,” Wade answered with a laugh, plopping down onto the seat in front of Peter.

“Huh?”

“Nevermind,” Wade said, leaning forward to snatch something off the low table. He then pressed his back into the chair and pointed it at the t.v, pushing one of the buttons with a finger. The machine lit up immediately at the action, the picture of a human appearing on screen. Peter gasped and dove behind Wade’s shoulders to hide, only daring to peek when the hero chuckled good naturedly.

“It’s only a picture, Pete, don’t worry,” he said, clicking another button on the gadget in his hand. The image on the screen flickered in and out rapidly, going from a different human, to the front of a building, to an animal, then finally to a scene of three female humans. Wade lowered the gadget in his hand and watched the screen attentively, the eyes of his mask bright.

“What’s that?” Peter asked as he crawled onto Wade’s shoulder, still wary of the tiny humans on the television.

“That, my dear Peter, is _The Golden Girls_ , one of the greatest television shows to ever air in North America.”

“Oh,” Peter said, still confused. “What’s a _Golden Girl_?”

“It’s a fine, foxy lady who doesn’t take any sass,” Wade replied, his gaze locked on the screen. He guffawed at something one of the ladies said, his voice almost drowning out the echoes of laughter pouring from the t.v.

Peter tilted his head at his friend, not entirely sure what exactly this show entailed and how he was supposed to react to it. From Wade’s chuckles he assumed it was meant to be a comedy, so he sat on Wade’s shoulder and tried to understand what was happening.

While the majority of the jokes went over his head, Peter did get a chuckle out of some of the banter from the tallest lady on screen. “She’s pretty funny,” he commented, pointing toward the television. Wade followed his finger, nodding in agreement when he realized who Peter meant.

“Yeah, that’s Dorothy Zbornak, played by the lovely Bea Arthur. She’s my favorite, too.”

“Who’s Bea Arthur?” Peter wondered aloud, the name sounding oddly familiar. He jumped when Wade perked up in his seat, jostling them both.

“ _Who’s Bea Arthur_?” Wade repeated incredulously, his wide-eyed gaze fixed on Peter. “Oh Baby Boy, I’ve got _so much_ to show you.”


	5. Deepening Bonds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BAM! I pushed this bad boy out right before my deadline. And now, I sleep. z.z

Peter and Wade sat together on the recliner, watching television and talking until well into the afternoon. When their stomachs began growling in tandem, Wade got up and entered his kitchen in search of food. Peter remained perched comfortably on his shoulder, kicking his legs lazily and stretching his wings out behind him.

“Let me see if I have anything for us to eat,” Wade mumbled, walking over to what he called a ‘refrigerator’ and pulling open the door to glance inside. As he ducked down to get a better look, Peter wobbled slightly in place, his hands moving to snatch up fistfulls of Wade’s suit to maintain his balance. Wade didn’t pay him any mind, the hero muttering to himself while he pawed halfheartedly at the contents of the fridge.

Like Wade, Peter was also studying the unknown items scattered on the wire shelves. There wasn’t much to see - and some of the food smelled downright _foul_ \- but Peter wanted to give his friend the benefit of the doubt and assume he knew what he was doing.

Wade searched through everything in the fridge, grabbing certain items to give them a sniff before grunting and tossing them aside. Peter listened closely to his quiet rambling, catching the words ‘Chinese food’ and ‘Mexican take-out’ among the rest of the chatter. It sounded like Wade was talking through his options, throwing in an irritated complaint whenever ‘White’ or ‘Yellow’ suggested something he didn’t like.

With a sigh, Wade stood and shut the fridge. He tilted his head to look at Peter and offered him a sheepish grin. “Sorry Baby Boy, but it looks like we’ll have to order in.”

Peter had no idea what ‘ordering in’ meant, but he didn’t want to be a poor guest so he returned Wade’s smile with one of his own and said that would be fine.

They walked back through the apartment and into the living room, where Wade grabbed his phone off the coffee table. He flicked the screen with the pad of his thumb, the list of names on the phone blurring as Wade perused them. The hero paused at one in particular, his finger hovering over the name.

“You want to try pizza, Petey-Pie?” he asked, his eyes staring at the device in his hand.

“Um, sure,” Peter answered, his tone hesitant. He didn’t even know what pizza _was_ , let alone if he’d like it. But, the fairy figured it would be worth a try. That was the whole point of him leaving England in the first place, right? To experience new things?

Wade nodded before selecting the contact on his phone and pressing a button labeled ‘speaker,’ a loud, shrill ring pouring from the phone a second later. Peter scooted over closer to Wade’s neck so he could read the screen easier, his fingers curling in the hem of the hero’s mask. He nibbled on his nails absently, waiting for something to happen.

The ringing ended with a sudden _click_ , and then the tinny voice of a human drifted up to them through the phone’s speaker. “Hi, you’ve reached Pizza John’s, this is Daniel, how may I help you?”

“Yeah, hi Douglas,” Wade started, putting one hand on his hip as he began pacing between his recliner and the television. “Can I get six large supreme pizzas with extra sausage and cheese?”

The human on the other line didn’t miss a beat. “Sure, will that be for pick-up or delivery?”

“Delivery sounds great, Donovan. Oh, and be a dear and throw in some cola while you’re at it, huh?”

Daniel-Douglas-Donovan agreed and took down Wade’s address before giving him his total. His farewell was cut off mid-word when the hero pressed another button on his phone, hanging up the call.

“There,” Wade announced, tossing his phone on the couch, “all done.”

“Did you order in?”

“Yep! And now, we wait.”

Peter moved to cross his legs, his hands continuing to play with Wade’s mask. “Wait for what?”

“For the pizza delivery guy to get here, silly!” he said, plopping back in his recliner and grabbing the remote to search the channels for something to watch. “It works like this: You call a restaurant, tell ‘em what you want to eat, and then they bring it to your door. Neat, huh? It’s perfect for when you don’t feel like cooking or you’re regrowing a limb.”

“Uh-”

“Yep, you can’t beat that New York service, Baby Boy,” Wade interrupted smoothly, nestling his back against the chair. “Best in the land! Oh! _Roseanne_ is on!” And just like that, he was lost in the show.

Peter watched silently as Wade giggled, his focus on the t.v. The fairy didn’t know what to think when it came to the odd things Wade said, the man’s words and meanings sometimes lost to Peter. But he wasn’t sure how to broach the topic without possibly upsetting the hero, so for now he opted to just shrug his shoulders and say nothing.

They watched _Roseanne_ until the pizza delivery human knocked on the door, Wade not bothering to hide Peter as he flung himself out of his chair and ran to answer it. “It’s about time, kid!” he said, surprising the middle-aged delivery man on the other side. The human’s wide eyes jumped from Wade’s masked face to Peter, who was still sitting on the hero’s shoulder. His mouth dropped open and he stuttered incoherently, nearly dropping the plastic bag and huge stack of boxes he was balancing in his arms.

Wade brushed off the man’s reaction and reached into his pocket to pull out his wallet, removing several pieces of green paper from inside before tossing them at the other human. Then he snatched the boxes and bag out of the man’s hands and slammed the door in his face.

“Whoo, pizza time!” Wade shouted as he rushed to his chair, dropping the tower of boxes on the coffee table and setting the bag on the floor. “Pull up a seat, Petey, you’re about to get a treat!”

Peter hopped from his perch and fluttered down to land on the table, stepping out of the way when Wade opened the top box and set it where Peter could reach. The fairy leaned over the edge of the cardboard and stared at the food in wonder, the smell that was rising from the pizza positively divine.

“Mmm, it smells good!” he moaned, his mouth watering. He heard Wade chuckle and tilted his head to watch the man as he headed into the kitchen. The sound of glass clinking together filled the silence, and when Wade returned he had a large mug in one hand and a smaller glass in the other.

“Here Pete, let me pour you a drink,” The hero offered, setting the smaller of the two glasses next to Peter. Then he bent down to dig a bottle out of the bag and twisted the cap off, the soda hissing for a moment before going silent. Peter watched as he tipped the bottle and poured a generous amount of dark liquid into the glass, rambling non-stop as he did so.

Once he’d finished with Peter’s drink Wade poured one for himself and set the open bottle on the floor. He sat heavily in the recliner and took a long swig of the liquid, pulling the glass away to smack his lips and sigh happily. Peter copied the man’s movements as best he could, finding it difficult to raise his glass more than an inch off the table. While it was much smaller than Wade’s, it still reached above Peter’s knees. After multiple tries he finally managed to take a sip, the sweetness of the drink both unexpected and appreciated.

Wade drank a bit more of his own soda before setting it aside and reaching into the box closest to Peter to pull the pizza slices apart. He took one for himself and grabbed another for Peter, placing it on the flat end of the box. The he lifted his mask to rest on his nose and took a huge bite, humming contentedly.

“Go ahead and try it,” Wade said through a mouthful of pizza, his lips shiny from grease. “It’s really tasty!”

Peter approached his slice tentatively, dragging his cup along behind him. Once he reached it, he walked around to the pointed end and looked up at Wade, studying how he ate. When he thought he had the gist of the technique, Peter squatted next to the slice and tore off a small chunk. He held it up in his hands, trying to identify all of the ingredients.

Peter was pleasantly surprised to find that the base was made of bread, and when he sniffed the toppings he could smell tomatoes and cheese. He took an experimental bite, chewing slowly as all of the flavors mixed together on his tongue. His eyes closed of their own accord and he groaned with pleasure, swallowing hungrily before going in for more. He ate through his piece at an easy pace, stopping every few bites to sip at his drink. He made sure to try all of the toppings before he got too full, finding them all enjoyable.

When he’d had his fill Peter realized that he’d barely made a dent in the slice. Thankfully Wade was all too happy to finish it off in his stead. In fact, Peter couldn’t help but stare in awe as the hero scarfed down slice after slice, polishing off two boxes of pizza all by himself. Peter laughed when Wade finished with a loud belch and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his distended belly.

“Phew, I’m stuffed,” he groaned, wiping the excess grease and tomato sauce off his face with the back of his hand. “That really hit the spot.”

Peter agreed wholeheartedly, his stomach so full that he just barely worked up the motivation to fly over to the chair and lay himself flat on Wade’s thigh. He tucked his wings beneath his back and shifted until he’d found a comfortable position, his eyes closing wearily. He debated the merits of taking a nap, figuring that it wouldn’t hurt after such a huge meal.

He was distracted from his looming food coma when he heard the light _swish_ of Wade’s mask as it was pulled back over his chin. Peter forced himself to sit up and look at Wade, addressing his friend with an air of innocent curiosity.

“Hey Wade, if your mask goes on over your head, does that mean you can take it off?”

“Yeah, of course I can. Same with my suit.”

“Then why don’t you? Take it off, I mean,” Peter asked, hoping he wasn’t being too nosy.

“Because I don’t want to,” Wade answered easily, not looking at Peter.

The fairy sat quietly on Wade’s thigh, puzzling over the man’s answer. “Why don’t you want to take off your mask?” he pressed further, wanting to understand.

The hero sighed and slumped down in his chair, his cheek resting on his palm. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed yet, but my skin is the stuff of nightmares,” he started, his tone glum. “It’s pockmarked and gross and looks like I fell into a meat grinder. It’s not just my chin, either. That shit is _everywhere_ , Baby Boy, and it ain’t pretty. Believe me, _no one_ wants to see it.”

“Does it hurt?” Peter asked, empathy filling his heart for his friend. He had no idea Wade was living with such a condition!

The man shrugged. “Sometimes. I got my good days and bad days.”

“Is today a bad day?”

Wade’s mask curled up at the edges of his lips. “Naw, I’m alright. You don’t need to concern yourself with my skin problems, Petey. I’ve dealt with this for a long time. I’ll be fine.”

Peter scanned the man’s face for signs of pain or discomfort, but he saw nothing out of the ordinary. “Okay,” he conceded, laying back down, “but let me know when you’re having one of your bad days. My aunt taught me how to make a balm for chapped skin and I’d be happy to mix up a batch if you think it would help.”

Wade perked back up in his chair, his hands returning to rubbing his belly. “Aww, thanks Baby Boy. You’re sweeter than a chocolate lava cake.”

That’s when the familiar sounds of _The Golden Girls_ theme song filtered through the air, but Peter didn’t pay it any mind. He was too sleepy to roll over or turn his head toward the screen, so he stayed where he was, the noise from the television drifting out of focus as he became drowsy. He stared up at Wade’s face as his eyelids grew heavy, the man’s excited grin the last thing he saw before sleep claimed him.

Peter groaned when he was awoken several hours later, the only light in the room coming from the lamp beside the chair. He rolled over and buried his face in the material of Wade’s suit, his eyelids firmly shut. While he snoozed, he tried to decipher what had woken him up.

The feeling of something large and blunt poking him in the side made him jerk. Grumbling irritably, Peter pushed it away and buried his head in his arms. “Mmm, five more minutes.”

“Peterrrr,” Wade called from above, drawing out his name, “it’s time to get uuuuuup…”

Another poke, this time to his opposite side, was what finally roused him. Peter opened his blurry eyes and turned to look up at Wade. “Mmph, Wade?” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s time to go to bed, Pete,” the hero chirped, pulling his hand away. His voice was far too chipper, in Peter’s opinion.

“I did go to bed,” Peter grumbled, trying to go back to sleep. He squeaked when Wade’s fingers wrapped around his body and lifted him up, the hero cradling Peter in his hand gently.

“I meant ‘go to bed’ in the literal sense. As in, ‘go lay down in an actual bed,’” he clarified, holding the fairy close to his chest.

“Oh,” Peter said, curling around Wade’s fingers. He glanced around in a sleepy daze as the human packed up the remains of dinner and placed them in the fridge for later. Then Wade switched off the lights and carried Peter into the moonlit bedroom, the man’s enormous bed sitting flush against the back wall.

Wade placed the fairy lightly onto the sheets, watching as his eyelids drooped and his head tilted forward tiredly. “Come on, Baby Boy, you can’t fall asleep yet,” he chided with a grin, lifting Peter’s chin with the tap of a finger. “Why don’t you get settled while I change in the bathroom? You can take whichever side of the bed you want, okay?”

Peter nodded and stumbled his way toward the head of the bed, his first steps unsteady on the bouncy mattress. As Wade disappeared into a side door with sleep clothes in hand, Peter made his way over to the pillows and glanced between them, trying to decide which one he wanted. He’d just hopped up onto the pillow closest to the wall when he paused, taking note of what he was wearing.

“Wade?” he called back to the man, raising his voice to be heard through the closed door. “Do you have my travel bag?”

“Just a second, Pete!” Wade shouted, emerging a minute later. His mask was still firmly in place, but the rest of him was dressed in a pair of long sleep pants and a muscle shirt, his skin on display. The texture appeared bumpy and warped in the low light, and Peter swore he saw scabs and open wounds in some areas. He tried hard not to stare, but it was difficult considering this was the first time he’d seen so much of Wade at once. And goodness was the man _fit_!  

Peter’s impromptu inspection was interrupted when Wade stepped over to the bed to hand him his overstuffed bag. Peter thanked him, turning away to drop the bag on the corner of the mattress and dig through the contents for his sleep clothes. He heard Wade pull back the sheets and climb into bed behind him, the mattress squeaking as he moved. Peter ignored his friend in favor of removing his sleep shirt and blanket from the bag, then quickly changed behind the pillow and out of Wade’s view.

Once he’d finished, he returned to his spot on the pillow with blanket in hand and settled in for bed. Wade watched Peter as he laid down and covered himself, the man waiting until Peter had gone still before asking if he needed anything.

“I’m alright,” Peter murmured sleepily, grunting as he tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position for his head. There was a moment of silence, followed by the sound of Wade lifting the sheets and rolling out of bed. Peter opened his eyes, spotting Wade as he disappeared into the bathroom. He overheard a lot of shuffling and banging, along with a curse or two from Wade, before the man reappeared with something small held in his hand.

When he reached the bed Wade set it next to Peter, stating, “Here Baby Boy, this might help,” then slid back into bed and pulled the covers up to his chest.

Peter sat up and grasped the item in both hands, surprised at how light and fluffy it felt. He couldn’t see too well in the low light to make out much detail, but from what he could gather it looked like a miniature cloud. He put it down and rested his head on it, sighing happily at the heavenly sensation.

“This is perfect,” he said inside a yawn, nuzzling deeper into his new pillow. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Pete. Good night.”

“Good night, Wade,” Peter whispered, falling into a pleasant sleep shortly after.

The next morning, Peter awoke to find Wade missing. He raised his head off his pillow to listen for the man, just barely able to pick up the noise from the television in the living room. Peter threw his blanket off and took to the air with a wide yawn, flying out to see what Wade was up to.

He didn’t find him in his lounger like he suspected, so he followed the smell of food to the kitchen. He spotted Wade standing in front of the stove wearing his sleep clothes from the night before, his muscular physique even more impressive in the light of day. Peter glided over to hover above the hero, watching curiously as the man poured white batter into a pan. It sizzled merrily as Wade hummed to himself, prodding at the concoction with an oversized spatula.

“What are you making?” Peter wondered aloud, landing on the countertop nearby.

“Pancakes!” Wade announced, flipping the cake over in the pan. “They’ll be ready in a few minutes. If you want, you can get cleaned up in the bathroom while they cook.”

Peter agreed, asking Wade to show him where the soap and other necessary items were located. The hero set the pan aside and led him back to the bedroom and into the bathroom, flicking on the overhead light so they could see. He showed Peter the sink and taught him how to use the knobs and the drain stopper, then set a washcloth and a bar of soap next to the rim.

“If you need anything else, just give a shout, okay?” he said, and then he was gone, whistling as he returned to his pancakes.

Peter struggled at first with the different knobs, but eventually he was able to fill the sink with lukewarm water. He bathed slowly, enjoying the feel of the soap on his skin and in his hair, then pulled himself out of the sink and dried off on a towel. With his wings too wet to fly, Peter was forced to carefully climb down the bathroom cabinet to reach the floor. It wasn’t particularly difficult, and he made it to without suffering any serious injury.

Getting back onto the bed was another matter, entirely. Peter struggled up the side of the mattress, using the disheveled sheets as a makeshift rope. It was incredibly difficult, and he almost slipped several times on the way. Eventually he made it, and after taking a short breather he grabbed a change of clothes from his travel bag and started to dress.

He’d just pulled his shirt on over his head when Wade called for him to come to breakfast. “Be there in a minute!” Peter shouted, hurrying to make himself presentable. He stuffed his sleepwear back into his bag and ran to the edge of the bed, shimmying down the blanket until his feet hit the floor. Then he raced out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, panting as he leaned against the doorway with a hand on his chest.

“Woah Baby Boy, what’s with you?” Wade asked from his seat at the kitchen table, his mouth already full of food. There was a half empty plate of pancakes in front of him, as well as a huge stack of pancakes set aside on a separate platter. “The food’s not going anywhere; you didn’t have to hurry on my account.”

“No, I just - can’t fly,” Peter explained between breaths, making his way slowly to Wade’s chair. “My wings are wet.”

Wade made a noise of understanding, then bent down to scoop Peter up in his palm and put him on the table next to the pancake platter. “Dig in!” he ordered, shoveling another forkful into his mouth.

They ate and chatted amicably, Wade telling Peter all about his plans for the day. He wanted to take Peter around the city so he could experience some of the different restaurants, as well as the museums and other tourist spots. Peter was ecstatic at the suggestions, powering through his meal so they could leave as soon as possible.

When they were both finished and the dishes were thrown in the kitchen sink, Wade had Peter wait in the living room while he dressed in what he called his ‘street clothes.’ This turned out to be a simple grey hoodie, matching sweatpants, and some comfortable sneakers, the man’s mask the only blotch of color in the otherwise drab outfit. When the hero returned to the living room changed and ready to go, he was stuffing his keys and wallet into one of his jacket pockets. He motioned for Peter to climb into the other side, waiting for the fairy to get situated before locking his front door and leaving his apartment.

The trip through New York took up most of the day, with Peter and Wade visiting what seemed like every restaurant in the city as well as the Museum of Modern Art. Peter was thrilled with all the new sights, smells, and tastes, his heart overflowing with gratitude as Wade carried him through the streets and exhibits.

As the sun descended beneath the horizon and the city lights came to life, Peter and Wade strolled through Central Park after sharing a meal at the hero’s favorite Mexican food cart. Peter enjoyed the sensation of being surrounded by nature, his chest aching as he thought of his home in England. He waited until Wade sat on a park bench in a secluded area before leaving his pocket and fluttering up to a tree limb high above the ground.

Peter waved down at Wade, chuckling when the man waved back, then set off to explore the canopy. He found several squirrel nests hidden among the trees, the animals less than happy with him for disturbing their slumber. They chased him away whenever they spotted him, their angry chirps and cries echoing loudly.

When he returned to Wade sometime later, Peter was breathless from his run ins with the local wildlife. His cheeks felt warm in the evening air and he knew his hair must be an absolute mess from the wind, but he was far too content to care. He smiled when he caught Wade’s eye from up in the trees, fluttering down to land on the man’s knee.

“Didja have fun, Pete?” Wade asked, his long arms stretched across the entire span of the bench.

Peter nodded vigorously, a wide grin splitting his face. “Yes, this forest is beautiful,” he said, spinning around in a circle to take it all in. “I know it’s not _exactly_ the same, but it reminds me of home, somehow.”

“I hoped it would,” Wade said, his tone sincere. “I wanted you to have a place where you could go. You know, in case you started to get homesick.”

Peter ached with affection at the man’s sweet gesture. “Thank you, Wade,” he whispered, flying up to hover in front of the hero. “For everything. You’ve been so generous and kind to me, ever since we met. I’m glad that I can call you my friend.” Then, before he could lose his nerve, Peter leaned forward and planted a tender kiss on Wade’s nose.

The man froze as if in shock, then slowly pulled away. He cleared his throat and turned his head, as if embarrassed. The fairy waited patiently for him to turn back, his gaze lingering on Wade’s mask to see the other’s reaction. He noticed the material shift as Wade swallowed, and his voice was thick when he finally faced Peter.

“You’re welcome, Baby Boy.”


	6. Confession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, this one was a doozy! I hope you all enjoy it!

The next week was filled with food, excitement, and countless hours in front of the t.v. with Wade. Peter had learned a lot about New York in that time, though to be fair his knowledge was spotty at best. He had a grasp on how the technology in the city worked and how to use it, but he still didn’t quite understand how it all _functioned_. And while he’d tried asking Wade for an explanation, the man’s expertise lay in human entertainment, hand-to-hand combat, and weapons - not engineering. So, Peter had turned to another source for information - something Wade referred to as _the internet_. 

The first time the hero had booted up the computer in his bedroom, the fairy had been floored. He watched, fascinated, as Wade opened up a browser window and used an odd gadget called a keyboard to type the phrase _how do tvs work?_ into the search bar. Then the man grasped another tool - _How is that a mouse? It’s not alive!_ \- and used it to click on a search result, officially _blowing Peter’s mind_. With _knowledge_.

The internet quickly became Peter’s new favorite thing. After a couple hours of practice, he’d caught on to the basics and was using the Google to research whatever his heart desired. The subway system, car engines, planes - everything. He had even pulled up a map of the world and was stunned to find that he’d only seen a small portion of what there was to discover. 

And thus, Peter began his mission to learn everything there was to know about humanity. Day in and day out, he stood in front of the computer monitor, his wide eyes scanning the screen and taking in as much information as possible. He was glad that the computer understood basic English, as learning a new language would have made this experience far more difficult. As it was, the only major hardship was pressing the keys on the keyboard and moving the mouse from one side of the screen to the other.

It wasn’t until Peter was well into the second day of his non-stop research marathon when he began to notice that something was bothering Wade. Every so often, Peter would look away from his investigation to find the hero watching him from the bedroom doorway. Wade’s expression beneath his mask would range from oddly pensive to completely closed off, his usual smile wiped away. Before Peter could ask what he needed, he’d turn and wander away, leaving the fairy confused and hurt.

Peter couldn’t help the guilt that filled his chest whenever he spotted his friend. He recognized that he was spending an exorbitant amount of time in front of the computer instead of in the living room with Wade, but Peter simply couldn’t help himself. Everything he could ever wish to learn was only a keystroke away. How could he turn his back on something like that?

So, despite his heart telling him not to, Peter ignored his guilt and threw himself headfirst into his studies.

On the third morning of Peter’s research into humanity, the fairy was momentarily distracted by the shrill ringing of Wade’s cell phone. He turned his head toward the door, hearing Wade answer the call with a muffled, “What?” The hero went silent as whoever was on the other end of the line spoke, and Peter was mildly curious as to who it could be. He was tempted to fly out to sit on Wade’s shoulder and eavesdrop, but instead he froze when the hero’s tone dropped and his words took on a dangerous edge. 

“I told you we’d speak later, Coulson. I thought I made that clear,” Wade growled, going quiet once more. 

A thick tension began building in the air, and the longer the silence stretched on the more suffocating it became. Peter swallowed nervously as he got to his feet and flew out into the living room to investigate, hovering uncertainly near the doorway. He could see Wade sitting in his usual spot in front of the television, but the volume was turned down low. Startled, Peter realized that he hadn’t even noticed the hush that had fallen over the apartment. Now that he was aware of it, he couldn’t help but be disturbed. What was going on?

“This might come as a shock to you Coully, but I don’t really give a shit what your boss has to say about me. I’ll do this in my own time, got it?” 

_Coully?_ Peter pondered, the name sounding familiar. It took him a moment to place it, but when he did, his eyes went wide. He pictured the agent who had tried to stop Wade from leaving the SHIELD building several days ago - the man with a gentle demeanor and soft voice. Peter frowned at the memory and fluttered closer, curious as to why a SHIELD agent would be calling Wade.

“Whatever, Coulson,” the hero grunted, his back straightening. “I’m leaving it up to him. I’ll let you know what he says.” Then he pulled the phone from his ear and ended the call, staring at the device with an air of irritability. 

Peter glided over to the back of Wade’s chair, setting his bare feet on the material softly. He waited to see if the hero would acknowledge him, relief filling his chest when Wade finally did so.

“Hey Baby Boy,” the human murmured, dropping his phone on the arm of the chair as he turned to face Peter, “how goes your research?” Wade smiled as he spoke, but it lacked his usual exuberance. 

“It’s going okay,” Peter replied in a small voice. He desperately wanted to hop down to Wade’s shoulder, but for the first time since he’d arrived he wasn’t sure he was welcome. Once again, guilt ate away at Peter as he thought of how long it’d been since he spent time with Wade. Outside of sleeping in the same bed, he’d all but ignored the hero for the last few days. The thought made Peter sick with remorse. 

_I’m a horrible friend,_ he mused glumly, tears burning at the corners of his eyes. 

Forgetting his hesitation, Peter jumped off the chair and onto Wade’s shoulder, all but sprinting toward the man’s face. He threw himself against Wade’s neck with a soft sob, laying his cheek against the rough material of the other’s mask. Peter heard the hero give a questioning noise at his outburst, but he was too upset to explain himself. Instead, he pressed close to Wade, snuggling into his warmth as tears cascaded down his face.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered through his tears, hiccuping as he tried to catch his breath. “I’m sorry.”

Wade sat wordlessly in his chair, allowing Peter to cling to him as he cried. Then hesitantly, he lifted his hand to the fairy’s back and cradled him against his suit. “What do you have to apologize for?” he asked gently, his thumb rubbing up and down Peter’s calves in a soothing motion. 

“I haven’t been a very good friend to you,” Peter explained in a whisper, his face red with shame. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Wade cooed, his fingers gingerly working to peel Peter away from his neck, “you’ve been a great friend.” The hero grasped Peter and pulled him around so they were facing one another, the fairy sitting delicately on Wade’s palm. “I’m the one at fault here.”

“But-”

“Ah ah,” Wade tutted. He moved to place a giant fingertip to Peter’s lips, managing to cover his entire face instead. “You hush. I know you’re super smart and curious, and you’ve got a lot of things to catch up on having lived in butt-fuck nowhere all your life,” he said, his expression softening as he removed his finger. He watched as Peter wiped the tears from his cheeks, a gentle smile visible under his mask. “Really Pete, _I_ should be the one apologizing to _you_ , seeing as how I’m such a terrible teacher.”

“You’re not terrible,” Peter hiccuped, staring up at Wade with watery eyes. “You’ve taught me so much about the world already! You showed me the park and a bunch of different foods, and you introduced me to Bea Arthur and her golden girls.”

Wade chuckled as he moved to swipe his thumb against Peter’s cheek lightly. “Yeah, but that’s about all I can teach you, Petey,” he said, taking a deep breath and tipping his head back like his next words were physically painful to say. “And I can’t believe I’m saying this, but there’s a lot more to the world than Bea Arthur and Mexican food.”

“No there isn’t,” Peter argued lamely, knowing full well it was a lie. He didn’t like where this conversation was heading.

“There is,” Wade said, looking into Peter’s eyes, “and while I’m not the best person to show it to you, I know someone who _is_.”

“Who?”

“You remember Agent Coully, from SHIELD?” 

Peter’s heart sank. “Yes…”

“Well, he just called and told me he’s super interested in getting to know you. You know, as a friend,” Wade explained, his voice an odd mix between strained and chipper. “Coulson and SHIELD could offer you a lot, Peter. Information, stability… Hell, even a place to stay.”

Peter’s brows crinkled as he frowned, his gaze searching Wade’s face. “But I already have a place to stay,” he said, confused.

“Aw Baby Boy, you don’t want to stay here,” Wade argued, that same strange smile on his face. “It’s gross and run down, and you have to put up with me all day.”

“But I like it here!” Peter cried, his heart beating fast in his chest.

“That’s just ‘cause you haven’t seen any of the other shindigs in this city, Pete,” Wade continued, sounding strained. “Believe me, once you see what SHIELD could offer you, you won’t miss this place.”

Peter jumped to his feet, his earlier sadness forgotten. “Wade, what’s happening?” he demanded, his heart in this throat. “Why are you bringing this up now? Do you...not want me to stay here anymore?”

“It’s not that, Petey.”

“Then what is it?” Peter begged, feeling helpless. “What did I do? Are you mad at me for ignoring you? I’m really sorry, Wade!” he said, face crinkling as he felt a new wave of tears wash over him. “I promise I won’t do it anymore!”

Wade’s face fell under his mask. “It’s got nothing to do with you, Peter,” he repeated, his free hand gripping the arm of the chair harshly. “It’s me. It’s _all_ me. I’m...I’m not a good person, Petey.”

“Yes you are! You’re the best human I know!”

Wade laughed weakly at his response. “I’m the only human you know.”

“That doesn’t matter.” 

“It really does, Baby Boy,” Wade assured him, letting out a shaky breath. “I’m...not perfect, Peter. Shit, I’m not even _normal_. I’m...a monster.”

“No you’re not!” Peter cried, rushing to the base of Wade’s palm. “You’re not a monster, Wade! You’re…” His words petered off into stunned silence, Peter’s mind racing as something clicked into place. “Is this about your skin?” he asked, watching the hero with wide eyes. When Wade flinched back, Peter knew he’d guessed correctly. 

“Wade, I don’t mind your skin condition!” he said, desperate for Wade to understand, to believe him. “It doesn’t bother me, really!”

“Not yet,” Wade said, his jaw tightening,” but it will. You haven’t seen the main attraction to this horror show, Peter.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Wade didn’t answer. Instead, he looked straight ahead and lifted his other hand to the bottom of his mask. With slow, deliberate movements, he pulled it up past his chin, nose, and cheeks, pausing to take a deep breath before finally ripping it completely off his head. The hero held the material loosely in his fingers, his bright blue eyes staring off at a corner of the room. He didn’t look at Peter, but he didn’t have to. 

“Wade…” Peter whispered, his hands coming up to cover his mouth. He stared wide-eyed at the man’s face in front of him. The skin was the same angry red as the rest of Wade’s body, covered in rough patches and deep, jagged scar tissue. But, even with the disfigurement, Peter could see the plains of his strong cheek bones and the sharp edge of his jaw. 

“I know,” the hero murmured, closing his eyes. He lowered the hand holding Peter to rest on his thigh, face still pointed away. “Turns your stomach, doesn’t it?”

Peter bit his lip, his heart aching at the clear pain on his friend’s face. “No,” he said, wings fluttering as he rose into the air and placed his hands on Wade’s nose. He waited until the man looked at him, Wade’s blue eyes wary and guarded, before continuing. “Wade, no. It doesn’t matter what you look like. You’re my friend, and scars or not, I want to stay here. With you.” 

Several emotions flitted through the hero’s gaze at Peter’s words, but he eventually settled on careful hope. “You...really don’t mind?” he asked in a hushed tone.   


“Nope,” Peter agreed quickly, swooping down to plant a kiss on the end of Wade’s nose.

The man huffed out a laugh, then reached up to grab Peter and bring him to rest against the base of his throat. “Okay,” Wade murmured, chin resting lightly against Peter’s head. “If you can put up with this butterface, then you’re free to stay as long as you like.”

“Forever,” Peter declared easily, snuggling closer.

Wade released a breath through his nose, the air rustling the fairy’s hair. “Sure, Petey. If that’s what you want.”

After that moment, things were different between them. Peter turned his focus back on Wade, and the hero seemed all the better for it. He was more willing to remove his mask and suit around Peter while they were at home, and his smiles came easier, too. However, the fairy could tell that being exposed still bothered him. 

Peter tried his best to ease Wade’s fears and insecurities about his appearance by insisting on being close to him at all times, especially when his skin was on display. He also made a point of touching the hero’s skin as often as possible to prove that he didn’t mind the scarring. While Wade fretted about the additional contact at first, within time he came to accept it. He even enjoyed it at times, especially after Peter began whipping up batches of his aunt’s balm and set about applying it to Wade’s skin every night.

It was during one such application, when Peter was smoothing ointment over the plains and ridges of Wade’s bare knee, that he was interrupted by the hero clearing his throat. Peter turned to look up at Wade, his hands moving to wipe the excess balm from his fingers onto the edge of a small bowl nearby.

“What’s up?” he asked curiously, surprised that Wade had taken his eyes off the Fresh Prince of Bel Air marathon for even a moment. The man had sat down in his chair dressed in his boxer shorts over four hours ago and hadn’t moved since.

Wade scratched his bald head in a show of uncertainty at Peter’s question, a nervous grin pulling at his lips. “Well Petey, I was just thinkin’ that, you know, since we’re friends and all, that maybe you’d like to meet another friend of mine. Someone special to me. What d’you say?”

Peter paused in the middle of wiping off his hands. “I don’t know, Wade,” he started carefully, trying to gauge the man’s reaction. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“Naw, it’s a great idea! Hear me out,” the hero pleaded, holding up his hands in a placating gesture. “This friend of mine, she’s really great! She’d also be super excited to meet you, and I promise she wouldn’t do anything to harm you.”

“Are you sure?” Peter asked, still hesitant.

“Absolutely!” Wade said, snatching up the tiny bowl of balm and setting it on the coffee table. “So how about it, Pete? Will you go with me to see her?”

“I...I don’t…” Peter began, but the hopeful look on Wade’s face forced him to relent. “Okay,” he sighed, wiping the rest of the balm off on Wade’s leg. He could do this. “I’ll go with you.”

Wade whooped happily at his answer and grabbed Peter, placing him on his shoulder so he could climb out of his chair and run to his bedroom. The fairy held on for dear life as they rushed through the apartment, surprised by the hero’s sudden enthusiasm.

“But Wade,” he shouted, gasping as he was picked up and dropped onto the mattress, “it’s night time! Shouldn’t we wait until tomorrow to visit your friend?”

“Naw,” Wade said, waving off Peter’s concern as he rushed to get dressed in his costume, “it’s all good. Ellie doesn’t usually go to bed until about 9:00 pm, and it’s just past dinner time. We can swing by and spend a few hours with her before Emily kicks us out.”

“If you say so,” Peter mumbled as he followed Wade’s example, pulling off his night shirt to throw on something more appropriate.

Once they were both dressed, Peter climbed inside one of Wade’s pouches and they exited the apartment and headed down to the street. The hero hailed a cab and climbed into the backseat, giving the driver an address that was located in one of Manhattan’s quieter suburbs. The car ride lasted for quite some time, leaving Peter to wonder why Wade’s friend lived so far away. 

When they arrived about an hour later, Peter poked his head out of his hiding spot to try and get a look around. He saw Wade reach into his pocket and pull out a wad of money before throwing it at the cab driver and bailing out of the car with a grunt. The hero had barely slammed the car door behind him before he was off like a shot, rushing to the front door of the house with a gleeful energy. 

Peter watched the hero press a button next to the front door, his ears picking up the sound of a soft chime echoing inside the building a moment later. The fairy ducked down inside the pouch when he heard footsteps approaching the door, blinking when it was suddenly flung open. 

Standing in the doorway was a dark-skinned woman, her poofy black hair twisted into tight curls. “Wade Wilson,” she said in greeting, one hand on her hip, “what brings you to my door this late on a weekday?”

“Just wanted to drop by and see my Ellie Belly!” Wade cooed, slipping past the woman and into the main entrance of the house. Peter gawked at how shiny and clean everything looked, the inside of the building a huge contrast to Wade’s messy apartment. 

“Ellie is in her room,” the woman said, Wade turning away from her the moment the words left her mouth. The hero started to walk quickly in the opposite direction, but he was stopped when the woman grabbed his arm.

“Wade, you can visit for awhile, but remember that Ellie has school tomorrow,” she chided him, her tone authoritative.

“I gotcha, Emily,” Wade replied, chipper as ever. “I’ll be out of here before bedtime, I promise.”

The woman - Emily - nodded and released him, grumbling under her breath as Wade stomped toward the back of the house.

Peter held on tight as Wade rushed through the living room and down a hallway, stopping at a door on the right. As the man raised his fist to knock, Peter studied the wooden surface with interest. The sight of animal stickers and a sign reading _Bad Guys Stay Out_ taped to the door made him giggle. He liked this person, already. 

A beat of silence followed Wade’s loud string of knocks, before a tiny voice called out, “Come in!” 

The hero threw open the door and strolled in, his arms thrown wide. “Ellie!” he shouted, dropping to one knee. “Come to Daddy!”

Peter’s eyes widened when he heard a squeal and turned his head to find a little girl rushing toward them, her face lighting up at Wade’s appearance. “Hi Daddy!” she called, colliding with Wade’s chest a moment later, her thin arms wrapping around his neck. 

“Hey Ellie Belly!” Wade greeted in turn, snuggling her close. “I missed you!”

Peter watched the two in stunned silence, his brain having stuttered to a halt at the word ‘Daddy.’ Wade was a father? Why hadn’t he said anything beforehand? Peter tilted his head curiously, studying the humans in front of him. He stared at Ellie as she stepped back, wiggling excitedly in a very Wade-like fashion.

“How was your mission?” she asked, a huge smile on her face. 

“I kicked butt, like always,” Wade boasted, immediately diving into an embellished summary of his time in England. Peter listened half-heartedly as the man spoke, still a bit shell-shocked that Wade had a daughter. He drifted in and out of the conversation, only focusing in on the story when he heard his name and saw Wade reaching for him. 

Peter squeaked as he was lifted out of the pouch and eased onto the palm of Wade’s hand. The hero held him up in front of Ellie, the girl’s stunned face not even an inch away from him. Peter bit his lip and waved at the girl, his wings perking up behind him in case he needed to escape quickly. 

To Peter’s immense relief, he discovered that his worries were unfounded. After a moment of astonishment, Ellie had immediately gushed over the ‘pretty fairy,’ asking him all sorts of questions about himself, his home, and his life as a fairy. Peter felt overwhelmed by the positive reception, but Wade’s steady presence behind him calmed him somewhat. 

It didn’t take long for Ellie to ask if she could hold Peter, too, and after she promised to be extra careful, Peter obliged her. He hopped smoothly from Wade’s palm to Ellie’s much smaller hand, her skin soft and silky compared to her father’s. The girl ‘ooh’ed and ‘aah’ed at him, touching his wings with the tips of her fingers and gasping when Peter fluttered them gingerly.

“You’re so _cool_!” Ellie exclaimed, twirling around as she cradled Peter in her cupped hands. “Daddy told me before that he’d seen fairies on his missions, but I didn’t think he was telling the truth!”

Peter cocked his head at that, looking to Wade for an explanation. The hero simply shrugged his shoulders at the questioning look, grinning impishly. 

Ellie then proceeded to show Peter around her room as Wade trailed behind them, the girl pointing out all of her drawings and allowing Peter to play with her toys. When he noticed the doll house set up in a corner of her room, Ellie was quick to take him over to it and place Peter inside. He marveled at the tiny house and its fairy-sized furniture, taking a moment to try out the rocking chair and lay on the plastic bed. 

“I have clothes, too!” Ellie announced, reaching to grab a box beside the house. She flung open the lid and dumped out a pile of clothing and shoes, all of it Peter’s size. The fairy flew down to the floor and pawed through the material, holding a few of the shirts to his chest to see if they would fit. 

“Go ahead and try them on,” Wade said from his spot beside Ellie on the floor, the hero’s knees tucked close to his chest so he could fit in the cramped space. 

Peter perused the stack before snatching up a pair of pants and shoes, the items sliding on easily enough. The shirts, however, were a different story. It took a bit of finagling and a few snips with a pair of scissors, but eventually Peter was able to slide into one. Ellie helped him with the tiny velcro fasteners in the back, then pulled her hands away so she could grab a mirror from her dresser. She held it up in front of Peter so he could see himself, the fairy smiling wide as he spun around to get a good look at his new outfit.

“This is wonderful!” he said, flying up to perch on Ellie’s knee. “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome!” the little girl answered. “If you want, we can cut up a few more shirts and you can take them with you back to Daddy’s apartment.”

Peter thanked Ellie profusely for her generosity, helping her as she prepared his new shirts and stuffed several outfits into a small pink backpack. Wade took the bag from her hand and attached it to his belt, smiling under his mask as he did so. 

They stayed a few minutes longer, Ellie and Wade drawing on pieces of blank paper while Peter watched. Eventually, Emily came by and told Wade that it was time to leave, thankfully missing Peter as he ducked down behind the hero’s knee. Ellie and her father groaned and complained, but ultimately agreed upon threats of violence from Emily. 

The two picked up the room after the woman left, Wade helping Ellie into her pajamas before turning back her covers. As she climbed into bed, Peter fluttered over and landed on her sheets, waiting until she’d settled before hugging her hand. He thanked her again for being so kind to him, and Ellie in turn asked Peter if they could be friends. The fairy agreed easily, waving good bye as he climbed into one of Wade’s pouches. He watched with a fond smile as the hero bent down to give Ellie a parting hug and a kiss on the forehead, telling her to get some sleep or “Emily will fillet me alive.” 

Wade turned off the bedside lamp and left Ellie in her room, tip-toing back through the house and to the front door. He gripped the knob and turned it, then shouted a quick goodbye before running out the door and back to the street, Emily’s demand to “Keep it down!” following them out. 

Once outside, Wade made a call on his cell phone to a cab company. The car arrived soon after, picking them up and carrying them back to Wade’s apartment. As they entered, the hero tossed his keys on a side table and moved to turn on the lamp next to his chair. 

“Hey Petey,” Wade said as he helped the fairy out of his pouch, “get changed for bed and then meet me at the computer. I got something to show you.”

Peter hummed thoughtfully but did as told, flying into the bedroom to change back into his sleep shirt. He spotted Wade as he entered a minute later, thanking the man when he set the little pink bag on the bed. He then turned away politely while Wade removed his own suit and dressed for bed.

Once he was ready, Peter glided over to the computer and hovered in the air, waiting for the hero to sit down. When Wade was settled in front of the monitor, the fairy hopped up onto his shoulder and turned to the screen, watching curiously as the man booted up the machine and opened a browser window.

“What did you want to show me?” Peter asked, getting comfortable.

“I’ve decided to buy you a place of your own, Baby Boy,” Wade announced, typing away in the search bar.

“But I want to stay here with you!” Peter started frantically, cutting himself off mid-argument when the hero turned to him with a huge grin.

“I’m not kicking you out, Petey,” Wade assured him, pointing to the screen. “I’ve got something else in mind.”

Peter followed the man’s finger to the monitor, a bright smile pulling at his lips as he noticed the pictures on the screen. They were images of young children playing with dolls, and each photo contained a miniature house similar to the one in Ellie’s bedroom. 

“I said you could live here for as long as you like,” Wade continued, scrolling through the selection. “So how about we make it a comfortable stay, huh?”

The fairy laughed and nodded, relief flooding through him when he realized that Wade truly wanted him to stay. Leaning into the man’s warm skin, Peter listened to him babble on about bear skin rugs and miniature jacuzzis, his eyelids growing heavy. It didn’t take long for sleep to claim him, the deep rumble of Wade’s voice following Peter into his dreams.


	7. Introductions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update. I've been feeling terrible for the past two days, so it took a little extra time to get this written and edited. I hope it was worth the wait!

Peter’s new house arrived within a day, Wade spending an exorbitant amount of money to ship it overnight from the distributor. The fairy hid in the bedroom while several men carried it through the doorway, the heavy structure balanced in their arms. Wade followed them into the room to manage the delivery, his face and skin completely covered by his Deadpool suit. He directed the men to set the house on top of his derelict dresser, and with tired grunts they did as told.

As the men left, Wade on their heels to see them out, Peter flew up to the house to get a better look. It was enormous, with three separate floors, working door hinges, and extravagant decor. He gasped at all of the wooden furniture, hand-made and perfectly sized for his use. There were tiny plates and glassware in the kitchen and dining room, a comfy couch and a decorative fireplace in the living room, and a beautiful four-poster bed with a soft mattress in the bedroom. 

Peter was awed at the craftsmanship and care that had gone into what amounted to a play-thing for human children, excitement filling him at the prospect that all of this was _his_. He heard the front door slam and Wade’s heavy footsteps on the floorboards as he returned to the bedroom, the hero coming to a stop next to the dresser.

Wade removed his mask without Peter having to ask and flashed the fairy a proud grin. “How’s it look, Petey? Was it everything you could have hoped for?”

“And so much more!” Peter chirped, his hands busy as he opened the drawers of his new dresser to inspect them. “Thank you again!”

“No problemo!” Wade answered, his fingers absently playing with his mask. “If there’s anything you want or need, just ask and I’ll get it for you, okay?”

Peter shook his head at the offer, abandoning the dresser to focus on Wade. While he was touched by the other’s generosity, he didn’t want to impose anymore than he already had. 

“Oh Wade, you don’t have to-” 

“It’s no big deal, Baby Boy-”

“-do that for me! I’m perfectly happy with-”

“-honestly, I got money to spare and-”

“-what I have, just as long as I’m here with you.”

“-I love spending money on your cute ass.”

“What?”

“What?”

Peter blinked owlishly at Wade, his head tilted to the side. The man just stared right back, his blue eyes bright. After a moment of shared silence, Peter simply thanked Wade again and went back to investigating his new home, reminding himself that the hero said odd things sometimes. He sensed Wade’s gaze on him as he moved through the miniature house, but Peter figured that the man was simply making sure that his gift was well-received. The fairy smirked at that, wondering how Wade could ever think he wouldn’t appreciate something so heartfelt. 

Later, when Peter had packed all of his clothes into his tiny dresser and laid his sleep shirt on his new bed, he joined Wade in the kitchen for lunch. The man was talking to himself again, his words barely audible over the sounds of pots and pans clanking. Peter fluttered over and landed next to him on the counter, watching with amusement as Wade argued with Yellow about something mundane.

Peter had started to realize that ‘Yellow’ and ‘White’ were the names Wade associated with separate parts of his personality. Yellow was the more playful of the two, while White tended to be cold and calculated. And while the knowledge that Wade regularly conversed with voices in his head should have bothered Peter, he’d actually come to accept it with relative ease. In his eyes, they were just another aspect of Wade - no more, no less.

Once lunch was ready, the two of them shared a delicious meal of homemade tacos and salsa at the kitchen table, chatting amicably as they ate. As they were clearing the table, Wade’s phone rang with a shrill tone, the noise capturing their attention. The hero glanced at the screen with a slight frown before excusing himself and leaving the room. 

Peter listened as Wade’s long strides carried him into the bedroom, the door shutting behind the hero with a soft _click_. The fairy debated whether he should risk eavesdropping or just stay put, but eventually decided that he didn’t want to intrude on a private conversation and possibly anger Wade. So instead, he continued doing what he could in the kitchen - pushing and pulling at the faucet knobs to fill the basin with hot water and dropping dishes into the sink. 

Peter had just tipped over the bottle of dish soap and dragged it to the edge of the sink when Wade returned, the man’s jaw tight and his eyes hard.

“What happened? Who called?” Peter asked, abandoning the soap bottle to fly to his friend. He hovered near Wade’s head as the man finished filling the sink with dirty dishes, the human’s movements jerky and irritated. 

“It was Coully again. He wanted to set up a meeting with us.”

“Oh,” Peter murmured, moving to sit on the counter as Wade dried his hands on a dish towel. “What did you tell him?”

“I told him we were gonna be busy today, and that I’d get back to him later.”

From Wade’s tone and his gruff demeanor Peter doubted that was all he’d said, but he chose not to mention it. Instead, he asked if Wade was ready to head out. The man turned to him with an appreciative smile, although it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Sure, Baby Boy. Let’s go.”

They left the dishes to soak in the sudsy water and wandered into the bedroom to dress. Wade threw on his casual clothing and hoodie while Peter slipped into one of his new outfits. The hero waited next to Peter’s house for him to finish, then held the pocket of his hoodie open so the fairy could duck inside. When Peter was nestled snugly in the warmth of Wade’s jacket, the man quickly gathered his keys and wallet and left the apartment in search of adventure.

They reached the subway station a few blocks away in record time, boarding the train and riding it all the way to Central Park. Wade exited the underground terminal and emerged near one of the park’s entrances, his steps slow as he meandered inside. He strolled along the grounds at a leisurely pace, sticking close to the tree line as Peter flew above him, hidden from view by the brush. The fairy fluttered back and forth between the leaves and twisted limbs of the trees, ducking and dodging whenever a bird saw fit to chase him. Every so often he would return to Wade to escape a particularly feisty predator, as the hero was adept at scaring them off. 

In time, Peter grew tired and retreated inside the baggy hood of Wade’s jacket to curl against the man’s neck. He hummed as he placed his cheek on the rough skin, the texture an interesting contrast to his own. Wade allowed the contact without a fuss, his focus devoted to the trail ahead as he side-stepped oncoming joggers.

As they continued forward, Peter tucked his legs beneath him and leaned fully on his friend, his gaze scanning the park lazily. He could hear Wade mumbling under his breath, and as he strained to listen Peter realized that the hero was talking to himself again. While he couldn’t decipher the majority of the quiet conversation, Peter did pick up the words “won’t let that happen” and “over his dead body.” 

Disturbed by the threat and concerned for Wade’s well-being, Peter decided to steer the man’s thoughts in a more positive direction. “Hey,” he called, tapping the hero’s cheek to capture his attention, “do you want to go to the zoo?” 

The Central Park Zoo had been a planned outing ever since Peter had arrived in New York. However, with all of the drama and t.v. binges they’d gone through over the past few days, they simply hadn’t found the time to go. Peter figured that now was as good a time as any other, especially with Wade’s mood teetering on the edge of a downward spiral. 

The hero faltered in his one-sided conversation, his head turning toward Peter at the question. “Huh? What’d you say, Petey?”

“I asked if you wanted to go to the zoo.”

“Oh, right, the zoo,” Wade said, looking ahead as a bicyclist rolled by. “Yeah, sure. We’ll head that way.”

The zoo was crowded and noisy, but Peter was far too interested in the people milling about and the animals on display to pay it much mind. Wade was still acting somewhat dour, speaking to Yellow and White in hushed whispers as they moved from one enclosure to the next. Peter tried to keep him distracted by asking questions about the different animal species, but by the end of the visit he hadn’t had much luck. It wasn’t until they’d exited the park and were heading home that Peter was finally able to draw Wade’s full attention.

The hero had just passed by a toy store filled with colorful dolls - their outfits reminding Peter of Wade - when a thought suddenly occurred to him. “Wade,” he asked, leaning close to the man’s ear, “when can I meet your other friends?”

The hero’s steps faltered on the sidewalk, the people around him grunting as they moved past. He continued after a short moment of quiet contemplation, chuckling as he addressed Peter with an air of confusion. “What are you talking about, Pete?”

“Your other friends,” Peter pressed, shifting in place on Wade’s shoulder. “The other superheros you know. When can I meet them?”

Wade went silent again, an oddity in itself, before he shushed White under his breath and barked out another laugh. “Oh, right! My superhero friends. Gotcha,” he started, his gaze darting from one point to another as though he were nervous. “Yeah, I haven’t had a chance to talk to any of them since we got back from England. They’re probably busy, you know, saving the world and rescuing kittens stuck in trees. But I promise you Petey, as soon as I hear something we’ll go out to meet them, okay?”

Peter cheered and fist bumped excitedly, hugging Wade’s neck as he smiled wide. “That sounds great! I can’t wait!”

“Yeah, me neither,” Wade muttered, his voice uncertain. Peter frowned and looked up at him with concern, his enthusiasm deflating at the hero’s morose reaction. Why did Wade sound so anxious about meeting his friends? Were they fighting? 

Peter shook his head, brushing the thought aside. No, that couldn’t be it. Wade said that he hadn’t spoken to them since he got back to New York, and he’d never given Peter the impression that they were at odds. But if they weren’t having a disagreement, then what was the problem?

Peter pondered his friend’s behavior throughout the rest of the afternoon and into the evening, but thought better of bringing it up. Instead, he did his best to brighten Wade’s mood and make him laugh, the two of them cracking jokes as they watched television together later that night. 

It was only after they’d retired to their own beds and the man’s snores filled the room that Peter allowed his mind to return to the issue at hand. While he wasn’t sure what could be causing strife between the group of superheroes, Peter swore to himself that he would find out. And if it was in his power to fix the situation, then he owed it to Wade to do so. 

As it turned out, Peter didn’t have to wait long for his chance to meet Wade’s friends. Later that week, after a long day of binge watching episodes of _The Golden Girls_ and eating fast food tacos, an opportunity arose in the form of a surprise robot attack. 

At first, Peter didn’t understand what was happening. He and Wade were just sitting in front of the t.v. in their lounge clothes, munching on popcorn, when a chain of explosions suddenly rocked the city. While Peter panicked at the sudden noise and following tremors, Wade simply snatched up the remote and switched the channel over to the news, a hopeful expression on his face. 

A live news report showed a female anchor cowering in midtown Manhattan as hundreds of shiny round machines flew around behind her. The hero stared at the footage with mild interest, Peter throwing rapid-fire questions at him from his spot on Wade’s thigh. 

“What’s happening? Is the city under attack? What do we do?!”

Wade didn’t answer immediately, instead leaning forward in his chair to gaze forcefully at the screen. Peter quickly copied him, his entire focus on the television as he wondered what they were waiting for. A sign perhaps? Something to signal to Wade that it was time for battle?

Peter watched the news feed with bated breath, his eyes widening when the robots directly behind the anchor abruptly switched course and descended on a group of arriving humans. To Peter’s shock, he saw the costumed people begin to do battle with the machines, their movements practically a blur. 

The fairy gaped openly at the sight of them, but Wade didn’t seem surprised. The hero gave a loud _Whoop!_ , grabbed Peter off his leg, and raced into his bedroom to change. He placed the fairy inside his miniature house before rushing to his closet to pull out his suit, an eager grin splitting his marred face. He had just slid on his pants and was reaching for his belt when Peter snapped out of his stupor, his wings fluttering to take him to Wade’s side. 

“Are you going to fight?” he asked, adrenaline making his hands shake. “Who were those people on t.v.? Are they heroes, too?”

“Yep!” Wade called, pulling on his top. “Those are my super buddies! They’re pretty strong, but if they’re going to defeat those robots they’ll definitely need my help.”

“I’ll get ready, too!” Peter announced, hurrying back to his house to dig through his dresser for a suitable outfit. He jumped when Wade appeared next to him, the man’s face now covered by his mask.

“No way, Peter,” he said, hands on his hips. “It’s way too dangerous. I don’t want you anywhere near that battle.”

“But I can’t let you go off on your own! You’ll get hurt!”

Wade stood at his full height, his expression hard under his mask. He stared Peter down, his tone assertive as he insisted, “No, Pete. I’ll be fine. Believe me, I’ve done this a million times. You’re the one who’s never been in a fight before, so _you’re staying here_. Got it?”

“Wade-”

“ _Got it?_ ”

" _Fine!_ ” Peter shouted, crossing his arms and turning away from Wade in a huff. He could feel his face heating with anger as the hero moved about behind him, gathering his weapons and preparing for battle. _This isn’t fair!_ Peter thought, biting his lip harshly. He was Wade’s friend, and that meant that he had to be there to help him in case he got into trouble. He couldn’t help Wade if he was stuck in the apartment! 

Peter heard the man leave the bedroom and stomp around the living room, probably grabbing his phone. He dropped his arms to his sides and turned back to his dresser, snatching up an outfit and throwing it on in record time. Then he hurried out into the living room and flew past Wade, ducking behind cover so the man didn’t see him. Once he reached the front door, Peter perched himself on top of the doorframe and laid down on his belly, tucking in his limbs so he was as small as possible. 

He held his breath as Wade approached, the man busy attaching grenades to his belt. Peter was relieved when the hero didn’t look up as he turned the doorknob and cracked open the front door, the man’s body facing away from him. Taking the opportunity, the fairy rolled off the frame and zoomed out into the hall, landing on the ground a few feet away to hide behind a potted plant. 

He heard Wade shout into the apartment - “I’ll see you later, Pete!” - before hustling out the door and slamming it behind him. Peter waited until the hero had gained a bit of distance before following at a steady pace, careful to stay out of sight. He flew down the stairs and onto the street, watching as the hero hailed a cab and piled into the backseat. Peter quickly followed suit, settling himself on the trunk of the car and pressing close to the back window.

The trip to midtown was slow and gruelling, the air whipping around Peter’s wings and cheeks in harsh waves. He tucked himself down and cupped his face in his hands, his ears ringing as the wind whooshed by. He could just barely make out the sounds of the city as they drove, the usual chatter and honking of horns soon overtaken by screams and the screeching of metal. 

He knew they’d reached their destination when the cab came to a sudden halt, Deadpool hopping out of the car before it had completely stopped. Peter took to the air after him, flying behind Wade as he ran along the sidewalk and headlong into danger. The fairy gasped as they drew closer to the battle and he got his first look at the mass of robots, their metallic bodies shining in the dim light of the sunset. 

Peter covered his ears when a powerful blast rang out around him, realizing a moment later that it had come from Deadpool. The hero was shooting at the machines with deadly accuracy, taking them down one by one as he rushed forward. Peter tried to keep the man in his line of sight, but it was becoming increasingly difficult with all of the action surrounding them. His senses were overloaded by the noise and flurry of movement as the enemy machines swooped in and out of view, and Peter had to blink rapidly to rid his eyes of the dust and debris floating in the air.

When he saw Wade run and jump behind an upturned vehicle for cover, Peter moved to join him, his mind racing to think of a way he could help. He gasped in fright when one of the robots spotted his movements and zoomed over, the machine stopping only inches away. Peter swallowed audibly and backed up, his gaze raking over what appeared to be the robot’s face. He was surprised to find that it had some type of camera embedded near the top of its body, the lense zooming in on Peter as the robot hovered in front of him. 

The tense stand-off ended when a blur of red and gold swooped by, the robot leaving Peter in favor of chasing after the new foe. Peter put a hand to his chest, his heart beating rapidly against his ribs, and took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He shook his head and fluttered over to a nearby building to perch on the window sill, his head whipping around in search of Wade. 

While he didn’t see the familiar red and black suit nearby, he did spot another hero dressed in red, white, and blue, the human battling multiple robots at once. Deciding quickly, Peter rushed over to join him, his gaze moving from one machine to another as he tried to formulate a plan. He noticed the hero raise a shield to his foes, the heavy metal protecting him as the robots took turns showering him in bullets. They weren’t giving the man a chance to fight back, and Peter knew it was only a matter of time before he was overwhelmed.

_What can I do?_ Peter thought desperately, cursing his small stature. He couldn’t fight them without a weapon, and even then, he doubted he’d do much damage. So if combat was out of the question, what else could he do?

The passing seconds felt like hours as Peter racked his brain for an answer, flitting back and forth to try and see the fight from all sides. As he watched the robots and studied their movements, he began to formulate a plan. It looked as though the machines were working as a team to bring down the hero, their movements coordinated and well-timed. So maybe if Peter could distract them somehow, the momentary confusion would give the human time to recover and fight back.

Nodding as he gathered his courage, Peter raced into the heat of battle, dropping down from above the robots to skim the air in front of them. He made sure to travel in front of their camera lenses, his wings working hard as he passed from one robot to the next. As he’d hoped, the sudden movement captured their attention and halted their gunfire long enough for the hero below to run and take cover behind a pile of rubble. 

Peter was quick to follow suit, escaping the circle of robots and flying high into the sky, his head turning to watch the human successfully take them out with his shield. He grinned at the sight, his chest blooming with pride at a job well done, then turned his gaze to the rest of the heroes. He could see Wade in the middle of the fray, the man laughing gleefully and talking a mile a minute as he shot down their enemies. There was another man beside him with a bow and arrow, the blond taking aim at any passing robots and destroying them with minimal effort. Peter sighed in relief, happy that Wade and his friend were getting along well enough to watch each other’s back. 

Figuring that Wade was okay for the moment, Peter continued to flit around the battlefield, acting as a distraction for the robots whenever possible. Within an hour the sun had set and the streets were quiet once more, all of the robots either completely destroyed or severely immobilised. As the heroes joined together in the center of the street to take stock of their injuries and report their findings, Peter hid nearby behind the body of a downed robot to eavesdrop.

His tired gaze roved over the group of humans with interest, drinking in their odd outfits and weapons curiously. There were four others besides Wade, two of which were dressed in sleek black leather while the others bore brighter colors. The blond man with the bow was standing to Deadpool’s right, while the man with the shield had settled at his left. A woman with bright red hair stood across from Wade, her arms crossed and a severe frown on her face as she glared at the manic hero. The final warrior sat atop an upturned cab, his red and gold skin shining under the nighttime lights of midtown Manhattan.

“Well that was fun!” Wade crowed, hands on his hips in one of his ‘regal’ poses. “Nothing like a good ol’ robot attack to get the blood pumping, am I right?”

“Why are you here, Deadpool?” the redhead asked, her frown deepening. “I don’t remember anyone sending you an invite to this dance.”

“No invite necessary, my beautiful flower,” Wade gushed, clasping his hands before him as he approached the woman with a wide grin. “When I saw that you were in danger I couldn’t keep myself away.”

The woman rolled her eyes before turning to the hero in red and gold. “Did you find anything during your scans?” she asked him, ignoring Wade as he continued to croon next to her. “What are we dealing with here?”

“Nothing too severe,” the metal man stated, his voice tinny and robotic. Peter jumped as the golden faceplate drew up and away to reveal a human face underneath. “From what I can tell, these guys share similarities with the doombots we’ve fought in the past. FRIDAY thinks it’s likely that these are tied to Dr. Doom, too.”

“Excellent,” bow-and-arrow guy muttered, shifting the weapon on his shoulder. “So does that mean we can leave the clean up to the Fantastic Four and call it a night?” 

“Not quite, Hawkeye,” the man with the shield sighed, his body sagging with exhaustion. “We can contact SHIELD and have them begin sweeping the area, but we’ll have to oversee the cleanup to make sure the danger has passed.” 

The other man groaned at that, while Wade wandered over to the shield guy and gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder.  “Aw, that sucks. Well, at least you get to rack up some overtime, eh Captain?” he said, waving jovially as he turned to leave, but Hawkeye put a hand on his bicep to stop him.

“Not so fast, Deadpool. You’ve got some explaining to do.”

“Aw, Mom, do I have to?” Wade whined petulantly, shaking off Hawkeye’s hold and facing the man. “Seriously, what’s got all of your panties in a bunch _this time_?”   


“Not so much ours as SHIELD’s,” the metal man grunted as he hopped down from his seat, his feet hitting the asphalt with a loud _clang_. “Phil called. He told us that an anomaly had shown up in your last mission report and you were refusing to disclose information about the cause.”

Wade tutted at the man’s comment, but his demeanor shifted from playful to guarded. “Coulson and I are having a minor disagreement right now. It’s nothing you need to concern yourselves with.”

“That’s not what Phil said,” the metal human continued, walking forward to put himself in front of Wade. “In fact, he wanted us to get _very_ involved. Said that you might’ve gotten a hold of something that could prove dangerous to SHIELD if it fell into the wrong hands. He even asked us to bring you in personally, if necessary.” 

Peter gasped from his lookout spot several yards away, his hands flying up to cover his mouth. _Oh no!_ he thought grimly, his stomach in knots. _They must be talking about the meeting Coully wanted to have with Wade - the one where he was going to introduce us!_

Did Coully want to meet Peter so badly that he’d recruit Wade’s friends? But why? And what did he mean by ‘dangerous to SHIELD’? Peter wasn’t _dangerous_!

This was such a mess!

“So what’ll it be, Deadpool?” the metal man asked darkly, his faceplate flipping down to cover his face once more. “Is our involvement going to be necessary?” 

Wade glared at him through his mask, his gaze flickering from one hero to the next until he reached Hawkeye. The blond shrugged noncommittally, then grasped his bow and brought it down from his shoulder in one easy motion. He returned Wade’s scowl with a raised eyebrow, the city lights reflecting off the leather of his outfit as his other hand reached for an arrow. 

“Your move, Wade,” he muttered, his gaze sharp. “Though I’d suggest you come without a fight. You’re more likely to leave you with all of your limbs intact.”

All five heroes stood poised and ready for action, their bodies tense and their hands on their weapons. Peter gaped at the scene in silent horror, his heart thundering in his chest. Was this the reason that Wade had been acting so strangely the past few days? Did he know his friends were angry about his fight with Coully? 

Peter cocked his head to the side, his thoughts racing. Knowing Wade, he probably didn’t want Peter to meet his super friends under such poor conditions. So if there had been even a slight chance of them having a spat…

The fairy smacked the side of his head, cursing his own stupidity. Of course! No _wonder_ he’d told Peter to stay behind! Wade must have thought something like this might happen! Hoping that he could help smooth things over, Peter pulled himself up and flew to the group, coming to a halt in front of Wade. 

“Wait!” he shouted, throwing his arms out in front of him. “Please don’t be angry with Wade! He and Coully are trying to work things out, and he never meant to upset anyone! I’m sure he’ll apologize, if you give him a chance!”

“ _Peter!_ ” Wade whispered behind him, his voice harsh in Peter’s ears. But Peter ignored him in favor of pleading his friend’s case, the fairy’s gaze locked on the faces of the other heroes.

“Please forgive him,” he pleaded, his voice filled with emotion. “Wade cares about all of you, and I’d hate for him to lose his friends because of me.” 

The heroes standing before him were all eerily silent at his words, their eyes on Peter and their jaws on the floor. He noted twin looks of awe on Hawkeye and shield guy’s faces, while the woman was staring at him like she wasn’t quite sure what to make of Peter. 

Surprisingly, the first one to speak was the red and crimson man, his robotic voice carrying through the thick quiet of the street. 

“Uh, is anyone else seeing what I’m seeing?”

“If you’re seeing a mythical creature, then yes, we are,” the woman stated, her eyes wide. The other heros nodded mutely in agreement as they continued to stare at Peter, their weapons held loosely at their sides.

Wade sighed loudly behind him, the force of it causing a small gust of wind that hit Peter’s wings and sent him stumbling forward awkwardly. Wade grabbed him before he could go too far, the man’s gloved hand depositing Peter on his broad shoulder with a casual air.

“Ladies and gentleman, Black Widow, “ he started, looking to all of them in turn before gesturing to Peter with a wave of his hand, “I would like to introduce you to my new friend, Peter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I mention that I abhor action scenes? Because I do. With a blind fury.


	8. Revelations and New Acquaintances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, I'm so sorry this took so long. This chapter really kicked my ass for some reason. D: (I can't write the Avengers omg what's wrong with me)
> 
> Also, some bad news: I'm going on vacation for a week starting Oct 1, so I won't be posting anything this coming weekend. I hope to get a chapter done the weekend of the 8th, but I can't make any promises. It really depends on how tired I am and how difficult I find the chapter. I'll try, though!

The four humans stood in stunned silence after Wade’s announcement, blinking dumbly. Peter offered a small wave in greeting, a sheepish smile on his face. The metal human’s faceplate flicked up once more to show his face, his eyes wide as he stared at Peter open mouthed.

“That’s a fairy,” he stated, looking at each of his companions for confirmation. “It’s a fairy. Peter is a fairy. FRIDAY, Wade is friends with a fairy.”

“Yes, sir,” a feminine voice replied in a calm tone. “Upon further analysis of the creature named _Peter_ , my scanners indicate that he meets the qualifications to be classified as a fairy.”

“No way,” Hawkeye murmured from beside Wade, the blond pushing his bow back onto his shoulder. “Fairies are real?”

“Looks like it,” the man with the shield murmured, his eyes wide as he put his weapon away. “Wait,” he started, his voice becoming stronger, “this can’t be the anomaly that Agent Coulson was referring to, can it? How could _a fairy_ be a danger to SHIELD?”

“I can certainly think of a few situations where someone so tiny could be useful in a mission,” the redheaded woman supplied, her gun held loosely at her side. “Though in this particular situation, it may not be Peter himself who is the issue, but his choice in friend.” She turned her steely gaze toward Wade as she spoke, one eyebrow raised.

Wade grunted at her words but didn’t comment, his shoulder tense underneath Peter. The fairy furrowed his brow at her hostility, wondering aloud, “Why would SHIELD be upset that I’m friends with Wade?”

“Wade isn’t exactly on good terms with SHIELD most days,” Hawkeye explained with a smirk. 

“But he’s a hero!” Peter argued, not understanding. “He protects people, so why-” He sputtered as Wade’s hand came up and wrapped around Peter in a gentle grip, effectively cutting off his words. 

“That’s enough wild speculation for one day, don’t you think?” Wade joked, his body still stiff. He released Peter, but before the fairy could get a word in edgewise the hero prattled on unabated. “Anyway, where are my manners? I haven’t told Petey your names, yet.”

Wade pointed toward the closest hero, Hawkeye, and started on his introduction. “Peter, this is Clint Barton, but his hero name is Hawkeye. We’re sharpshooting bros, although I’m way cooler since I use guns and he’s stuck in the stone ages with a bow and arrow. Feel free to label him with whatever bird-related nicknames you see fit.”

“Please don’t,” Clint butted in, but he was swiftly waved aside so Wade could move on to the red headed woman.

“This lovely lady is Natasha Romanov, also known as Black Widow. She may look like a gentle flower, but watch yourself Pete - she won’t hesitate to kick your ass if you step out of line.” 

Peter gazed nervously at the woman as Wade spoke, and when her eyes found his he squeaked and flattened himself against Wade’s neck. Natasha smiled at his reaction and blew him a kiss, chuckling as she said, “Don’t worry Peter, I’ll be gentle.”

“You’re never gentle,” Clint commented, only to grunt as Natasha punched him roughly in the shoulder. The archer rubbed his arm and pouted, mumbling, “See?” to no one in particular. He hopped back when Natasha approached him again, the woman’s calm smile belying her intent.

The man with the shield stepped in between them, effectively breaking up the encroaching beat down while also placing himself in front of Wade and Peter. “Hello Peter,” he greeted the fairy warmly, nodding at him. “It’s nice to meet you. My name is Steve Rogers, though most people know me as Captain America.”

Peter instantly liked this Steve Rogers person. Despite having just been in a very heated battle, he sounded genuinely pleased to meet Peter and even had a gentle smile curling his lips. Peter returned the expression with a shy wave and mumbled a quiet compliment about the man’s fighting skills. Steve seemed a bit taken aback by the praise, but thanked Peter all the same.

The serene moment was shattered when the mechanical man stepped up and shouldered past Steve, his metallic body clanking as he moved. “All right, all right, step aside grandpa. Sit down before you break a hip, I got this,” he said, unperturbed by the glare Steve sent his way. He then focused on Peter, his gaze sharp as he examined the fairy closely.

“I’m Tony Stark, a.k.a. Iron Man, but I’m sure you’ve already heard of me.” Peter tried to answer in the negative, having never seen or heard of someone called  _Iron Man_ or _Tony Stark_ before, but the moment he opened his mouth Tony cut him off. “Of course you have. Anyway, let me be the first to say wow, you’re small. Tell me, Pete - may I call you Pete? - Pete, the composition of your wings is incredible. What kind of lift can you get with those things - we talking to the top of the Chrysler Building or are we going up to the Empire State?” 

“Um…” Peter started, not sure how to answer. Luckily he was saved by Wade who raised a hand to Tony’s chest to keep him at bay.

“Calm down Iron Crotch, Petey just got here. Give him a chance to breath, jeez.”

“Why is he here in the first place, Deadpool?” Tony shot back, slapping Wade’s hand off his chestplate. “Where did he even come from?”

“England,” Peter answered easily, happy to be back in the conversation. “I met Wade during his last mission and he promised to bring me back to New York with him.” 

Clint stepped closer at that, his curious, “England, huh?” overshadowed by Tony’s incredulous “And you came here with Deadpool _willingly_?” Peter blinked and glanced between them, not sure who to answer first. Wade beat him to it. 

“Screw you, Brony Snark,” he growled, sounding offended. “Me and Petey are best buds. I’ve been showing him around town and throwing killer sleepovers, right Baby Boy?” 

“Right!” Peter agreed, throwing Tony a sincere smile. Tony wasn’t impressed.

“I don’t know guys,” the man muttered, scratching his bearded chin, “I don’t trust it.” Then he leaned forward, his hand hiding his mouth from Wade’s view while he stage whispered, “Peter, are you being held against your will?” 

“Um, no.” 

“Spoken like a true hostage!”

“Tony, please,” Steve started as Natasha came forward as well, eying Peter skeptically. “You’re not helping.”

“I’m with Tony, Steve,” Natasha murmured, her gun now back in its holster. “It’s hard to believe that anyone would willingly bunk with Deadpool. That’s on par with Chinese water torture.”

“Not cool, guys,” Wade pouted, hands on his hips. 

Peter watched the heroes as they continued to talk amongst themselves. Tony and Natasha questioning Wade’s motives while Wade defended himself within a slew of pop culture references. Captain America had shaken his head and bowed out of the conversation entirely by that point, stepping away to make a call on his cell phone. Clint simply stood back and observed the argument with a bemused look on his face, his lips firmly sealed.

While they bickered, Peter noticed that Tony would occasionally address the disembodied female voice he referred to as _FRIDAY_. This baffled Peter, as he couldn’t pinpoint the source of the sound. He turned his head side to side to see if he could spot another human nearby or catch Tony using a cell phone. When he saw neither he returned his attention to Tony, studying his movements closely. 

The longer he stared, the more the pieces began falling into place. With dawning realization, Peter came to the conclusion that the sound was originating from the man’s mechanical skin. He sat up on Wade’s shoulder and tapped the other’s cheek excitedly to get his attention. Wade paused mid-rant to look at Peter, listening as he questioned in a curious whisper, “Is Tony’s skin talking?”

Wade stared at him blankly, giving a drawn-out “Uhhhh…” as he pondered Peter’s words. Peter pointed in Tony’s direction, waiting until Wade followed his finger before repeating his question patiently. This time Wade understood, the man giggling as he replied, “Oh! Yeah, that’s FRIDAY, Tony’s sexy super computer. She lives in his suit or something.”

“Super computer?” Peter mumbled, dropping his hand back to his side. “Suit?”

“Perhaps I can be of some assistance here,” Tony blurted, gesturing animatedly as he spoke. “As stated earlier, I’m Tony Stark - engineer extraordinaire. I own Stark Industries and I’m the lead designer and creator of The Avenger’s tech and weaponry. I created FRIDAY to help with my Iron man suit as well as other projects in my lab.” 

At Peter’s blank expression, Tony pursed his lips and continued while indicating his body, “This is my Iron Man suit. I use it to battle the various baddies that threaten New York.” Then, to Peter’s utter surprise, the suit opened up like a magic trick and Tony stepped out of it and onto the street. 

“That’s incredible!” Peter shouted in astonishment, jumping to his feet and waving his arms around. He gasped as the suit reformed and stood close by, its bright eyes on Peter. The fairy began asking a slew of questions, wishing to know how the suit worked and what else Tony had created. He’d never seen anything like the Iron Man, and the thought of Tony’s other incredible inventions had Peter practically drooling. He was desperate to get a view of the man’s lab.

Tony seemed pleased by the attention, offering his own questions regarding fairies and Peter’s home. He was intrigued by the fairy’s wings and his current understanding of human society, rolling his eyes when Peter informed him that Wade had been his teacher up to this point. Tony began to comment, but Wade cut him off with a loud and clearly fake yawn.

“Well, this has been fun super friends, but it’s getting late. Time for all good heroes and fairies to hit the sack. (Heh, _sack_.) Come on, Petey.” He placed a hand over Peter, effectively hiding him from view, before turning on his heel and beginning to walk off. Peter opened his mouth to protest, not ready to leave just yet, but he was startled when he heard Steve’s voice directly in front of Wade.

“Hold on, Wade,” the blond ordered, his tone authoritative. “SHIELD is on their way to secure the area. Phil will be here, too, and I’m sure he’d like to take this opportunity to meet Peter.”

Deadpool’s expression was downright ominous. “I’m not putting Petey in danger.”

“He’s not in danger,” Steve placated, shaking his head. “I’m sure Phil just wants to ask Peter the same questions Tony did.”

“Then he can get the answers from Tony. I’m out of here,” Wade said, glaring at Steve as he moved to pass him. The Captain’s hand went to his shield, his face grim, and Peter heard the sounds of Tony’s suit charging and Clint nocking an arrow. The fairy bit his lip when he turned his head and saw Natasha point her gun at Wade’s back, his friend seeming unbothered by the sudden hostility.

“Wait!” Peter called, rushing to put himself next to Wade’s ear. “It’s alright. I’ll meet Coully if it’ll make everyone happy,” he said, trying to soothe the other’s nerves.

Wade came to a stop a few paces away from the other heroes, his back rigid and his jaw tight. He kept his back to the Avengers while he tilted his head toward Peter. “I don’t like Coulson’s reason for wanting to talk to you, Pete. You’re not some freak for everyone at SHIELD to gawk at.”

“It’s not like that, Wade,” Clint argued, his weapon at the ready. “SHIELD’s seen it all at this point. You really think Peter’s going to be worth more to them than a quick interview? They want an explanation - that’s all.”

“It’s never cut and dry with SHIELD,” Wade snarled as he turned to face the group of supers. “The best way to stay safe is to keep off the grid, and you can’t do that once SHIELD gives you a file.”

Natasha shifted her weight, drawing Wade’s gaze to her. “SHIELD won’t harm Peter if he’s not a threat,” she assured, her eyes hard. 

“You said it yourself, SHIELD could use Peter,” Wade shot back, clearly agitated. “I won’t let Petey go off on some mission and get himself killed because SHIELD finds him _convenient_.”

“Wade…” Peter murmured, running his fingers over the material of his friend’s mask. “I’ll be alright. You told me you’d protect me, remember?” When the man nodded minutely, Peter continued, “Then I promise that I won’t go anywhere without you, no matter _what_ SHIELD says. That way you don’t have to worry about me. Okay?”

Wade huffed, but Peter could see a small grin under the mask. The fairy hugged as much of his friend’s neck as he could reach, then pushed away to address the group of heroes. “I’ll meet with Coully, but only if Wade can come, too.”

“I’m sure that can be arranged,” Steve said, smiling softly at Peter. He removed his hand from his shield and the rest of the humans followed suit, lowering their weapons to stand at ease. 

Peter had just thanked them for their patience when the shrill sound of sirens started to pierce the air. The fairy flapped his wings and took to the air at the noise, flying down to Wade’s belt to climb into one of the pouches. While Peter was willing to speak to Agent Coulson, he was _not_ prepared to show himself to every agent that flocked to the scene.

This turned out to be an excellent maneuver, as within minutes the street was flooded with vehicles, police officers, ambulances, and SHIELD agents in sleek dress suits. Peter peeked out of his hiding place to watch the goings-on, awed by all of the activity. And although seeing everyone at work was interesting, Peter was relieved when Wade stepped aside to sit on the curb where he was out of the way. 

Clint eventually joined him, the blond man chatting with Wade to pass the time. Peter listened intently as they discussed past missions, new weapon technology, and rumors that were swirling around the superhero circle. Wade slowly relaxed throughout the conversation, his body no longer tense in preparation for a fight. Peter was glad for it.

It took about twenty minutes or so for someone to approach the duo. Peter perked up when he felt Wade stiffen and hop to his feet, the hero wiping dirt off his bottom as he addressed the newcomer. Peter stuck his head out of the pouch to get a better look, completely underwhelmed by the agent standing in front of them.

“Hey Coully, long time no see,” Wade greeted smarmily. He was clearly unhappy to be facing Coulson so soon after their last phone conversation.

“Good evening, Mr. Wilson. I’m glad to finally catch you,” Coulson returned evenly, just as calm as he’d been during their first meeting at SHIELD headquarters. “Mr. Rogers mentioned that you had your guest with you.”

“Enough with the niceties, Coulson. Let’s just get this over with,” the hero sighed, hands on his hips.

Coulson nodded, a serene smile on his face. “Alright then, let’s head somewhere more private. Mr. Barton, if you’ll excuse us.”

“Actually I was hoping to tag along,” Clint said, readjusting the bow on his shoulder as he stood next to Wade. “Call me crazy, but I’m curious to hear more about Peter, myself.”

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” Coulson started, holding up a hand. “I think our guest will be more comfortable with just myself and Mr. Wilson.”

“I don’t mind!” Peter cut in suddenly, his head poking out of the pouch. Coulson appeared startled as he looked down, his eyes locking with Peter’s. The human looked taken aback for a second, then his face smoothed out and his lips twitched into a true smile.

“Hello,” he said kindly, nodding at Peter. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Mr…?”   


“My name’s Peter.”   


“Mr. Peter, then. My name is Phil Coulson. I’m an agent with SHIELD. Tell me, how are you enjoying New York so far?”

“I love it!” Peter exclaimed excitedly, leaning further out of the compartment. Wade’s hand moved to tilt him back into place, the hero muttering a soft order to stay put. Peter apologized sheepishly and slid down so only his eyes were visible, his gaze turned up at Coulson and Clint.

“That’s wonderful to hear,” Coulson continued as though they hadn’t been interrupted. “I’ll try to keep this meeting short so you can get back to visiting the city.” 

With a nod and a gesture of his hand, the man indicated for Wade and Clint to follow him. He led the way to a non-descript black sedan parked at the corner of the block, sliding into the front seat while Clint and Wade piled into the back. The agent started the car with a turn of the ignition key and peeled out into the street, carefully avoiding the other vehicles parked on the road. 

The drive to SHIELD headquarters was a tense one. Clint did his best to keep a conversation going, but Wade had gone dangerously quiet early on and didn’t look like he was going to budge anytime soon. Peter wasn’t quite sure why he was being so testy, as he had a good feeling about both Clint and Coulson. So far both had been cordial to him, and despite pointing his weapon at Wade earlier, Peter got the impression that Clint was pretty easy-going.

Wanting to chat with Clint and figuring that he was safe for the time being, Peter exited the pouch and clambered onto Wade’s thigh so he was closer to the archer. His friend grunted at the action but did nothing to stop him, instead moving to place his hand in front of Peter to act as a buffer between him and Clint. Peter offered Wade an appreciative smile as he pressed into the man’s gloved palm, his arms resting loosely atop the hand. Then he turned his gaze to Clint and asked, “You’re one of Wade’s super hero friends, right? Are you really powerful?”

Clint blinked at the question, but his face quickly smoothed out into a grin. “I’m an Avenger, but I don’t have any superpowers or mutant abilities like Wade. I’m just a normal human with decent fighting skills.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Hawky,” Wade cut in, his thumb brushing against Peter’s hair absently as he spoke. “I’ve seen you kick all sorts of ass, both robotic and organic. It’s almost as hot as watching Black Widow choke someone out with her thighs.”

“Thanks Wade, you sure know how to make a man feel special.”

“You know it,” Wade said, making kissy noises under his mask. 

Clint waved him off with a smirk, then tilted his head down to look at Peter who’d been watching them silently. “Enough about me, I want to know more about you, Peter. So you’re staying with Wade while you’re in New York?”

“Yes! Wade even bought me my own miniature house to sleep in. It’s very comfortable.”

“Well, that was nice of him,” Clint replied, his gaze flicking to Wade for a moment. “What’s your favorite part of New York, so far?”

“Oh, there are so many wonderful things to see here!” Peter gushed, fluttering his wings behind him in excitement. “Central Park is one of my favorite places, though. It reminds me of home.”

“Your home in England?”

Peter gave an affirmative hum as he leaned further into Wade’s palm, his hands picking at the material of the hero’s glove. “If I’m feeling homesick it helps if we walk around the park for a few hours.”

“Petey pisses off the squirrels,” Wade added, chuckling when Peter stuck his tongue out at him playfully.

“In all fairness, they deserve it,” Clint joked with a smile. He turned his head to look out the window as Coulson turned down a sidestreet, and when his gaze fell back on Peter he looked slightly pensive. “Peter,” he asked, his tone hesitant, “not that it wasn’t great to meet you, but what were you doing on the battlefield in the first place?”

Peter’s eyes dropped to the car’s leather seat, a blush staining his cheeks. “Um, well,” he started in a small voice, his head lowered shyly, “we saw the news lady talking about the robot attack on t.v. When Wade told me he was going to help, I wanted to go, too. Wade told me to stay in the apartment, but I snuck out and followed him.”

“So you just wanted to help Wade?” Coulson inquired suddenly from the front seat, his tone just as calm as it had been out on the street. 

“Of course! He’s my best friend.”

“Aww, Petey-Pie,” Wade cooed as he picked Peter up with both hands and rubbed his cheek against the fairy’s, “you’re so cute!” He pulled Peter away from his face and stared down at him, his expression becoming serious. “But don’t get any ideas, Petey. I don’t want you following me into battle like that again. You could get yourself injured or killed, and I would be heartbroken if that were to happen.”

“But what about you, Wade?” Peter pressed, leaning forward in the hero’s grasp. “I don’t want you to get hurt, either!”

“You don’t have to worry about Wade,” Clint assured as he patted the other man on the shoulder. “He’s got one of the strongest healing factors outside of Wolverine himself. He can come back from anything, even death.”

Peter gaped at Clint, then looked to Wade for confirmation. Surely such a claim couldn’t be real!

“He’s telling the truth, Pete. I can’t die, but _you_ can. So leave the fighting to me and the other heroes, okay?”

Peter wasn’t quite sure what to say to that, so he chose to simply nod dumbly and stare at Wade wide-eyed. The hero set him back down on his thigh once he’d received his answer, his thumb returning to pet Peter’s hair gently. 

They continued to talk amicably as they drove to SHIELD headquarters, Coulson asking questions here and there from the front seat. Peter slowly recovered from the shocking news that his best friend was impervious to harm, the idea still implausible in his mind. He’d have to see some sort of proof before he believed it wholeheartedly, but for now he decided to give Wade the benefit of the doubt. 

When they reached their destination, Coulson pulled off the street and into a hidden underground parking garage, the entrance of which was surrounded by cameras and blended seamlessly into the building. The agent pulled into an empty space and cut the engine smoothly, turning to address his passengers. “Shall we?” he asked rhetorically, opening his door and sliding out of the front seat.

Clint followed suit, while Wade took a second to put Peter back into his pouch before exiting the vehicle. The chirp of the car alarm echoed in the open area as Coulson set it, then the three of them walked to an elevator and entered as soon as the doors opened. Agent Coulson removed a badge from the inner breast pocket of his suit and held it over a scanner near the floor buttons. 

Peter watched as a green light shown on the panel and it gave a little beep, the doors closing as Coulson pressed one of the dozens of numbered buttons. The agent nodded his head at Clint before eying Peter, a gentle smile on his lips. “We’ll hold this meeting in one of the empty rooms upstairs, Peter. I promise it won’t take too long.”

“Okay,” the fairy answered distractedly, his gaze on the screen at the top of the elevator which displayed their current floor number. 

No one spoke during the ride up, the three humans merely shuffling awkwardly in the enclosed space. When the numbers on the panel reached fifty three the elevator stopped and the doors opened again with a sharp _ding_ to reveal the long, empty hallway beyond. Coulson took a step forward and shot out a hand to hold the door open, his head turning back toward Wade. 

“After you, Mr. Wilson,” he offered, indicating for the hero to walk ahead. 

Wade let out a loud breath through his nostrils and crossed his arms over his chest. “No thanks, Agent. I’ll follow you.”

The two stared each other down for several tense seconds, neither wishing to give an inch. To Peter’s surprise it was Clint who broke the stand-off, the archer rolling his eyes as he huffed, “ _Fine_ , I’ll lead.” The other man moved out of the elevator and down the hallway with purpose, Wade following close behind him while Agent Coulson brought up the rear. 

They traipsed down the hallway in single file until Clint stopped in front of one of the numerous bland doors lining the walls. “Take it from here, Phil,” he said as he shifted to let the agent reach for the panel next to the door.

“Thank you, Mr. Barton,” Phil murmured, unlocking the door with another swipe of his badge. He then reached for the handle and twisted it soundlessly, pushing the door open before sweeping inside. He made his way to the large table and stood next to one of the cushy chairs, his gaze landing solely on Wade who stood frozen in the doorway. 

“Alright gentlemen,” he announced as he took a seat, “let’s get started, shall we?”


	9. SHIELD Reports

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW, it's sure been awhile. Sorry that this took so long to update. I was out of my home state on vacation the first week of October, and because of Hurricane Matthew I couldn't fly back home until Sunday afternoon. So yeah, there was no way in hell I was going to write and edit a chapter before Monday rolled around. xD;
> 
> Anyway, this chapter kicked my ass in the editing room so I hope it turned out well. Next chapter will be out on schedule, if time and health permit. 
> 
> See ya then~

The meeting room fell into an uncomfortable silence as all three humans took their seats. Wade helped Peter out of his pouch and onto the flat surface of the table, the fairy’s wings fluttering nervously as he locked eyes with Agent Coulson. The man smiled serenely from his position opposite Peter and Wade, his hands folded loosely in front of him.

“First, I would like to extend my sincerest thanks to Peter for his aid in the fight this evening. His brave actions and support of the Avengers led to our victory and the return of peace to our community.”

Peter blushed hotly at the unexpected compliment, his head tilting down shyly. “Thank you,” he muttered quietly, looking up at Coulson through his lashes. He could see Clint flash him a thumbs up from the chair next to Wade, the blond throwing him an encouraging smile and nod. 

“You’re quite welcome, Peter,” Coulson replied, rolling smoothly into his next point. “You’ve already answered the majority of my questions during the drive here, so this meeting should only take a few more minutes of your time.”

“Then get on with it, Coully,” Wade grumbled from behind Peter, his voice sounding petulant. “We’ve got places to be.”

“Of course,” the other man answered easily, his eyes dropping to the shiny surface of the table. Peter watched as Coulson reached for a small button situated at the edge of the wood, pressing it lightly with a fingertip. The area above the table sprang to life at the action, the sudden color and light making Peter jump. He stared open-mouthed as Coulson typed on a keypad that had appeared on the table top, a holographic screen rising into the air between them moments later.

“I’m creating a SHIELD file under your name, Peter,” Coulson explained, his fingers continuing to move over the digital keys. “This will help us to better understand your needs and goals, and will act as a jumping-off point in the future if you decide to work more closely with SHIELD.”

“Which he won’t,” Wade cut in darkly with a scowl. Peter looked over his shoulder at his friend, frowning slightly. Why was Wade so angry at the idea of Peter working with SHIELD? They seemed nice enough.

“Everyone has a file with us,” the agent continued, completely ignoring the other man’s interruption, “including your friend Wade and Mr. Barton. Theirs will be much more extensive than yours, considering SHIELD has been associated with them for several years. For now, I’d merely like to gather some general information about you, Peter. Is that alright?”

Peter nodded in agreement, his focus back on the agent. He stood patiently while Coulson filled in what he already knew about Peter, the human explaining his actions as he went. At one point he directed Peter to come forward so the security cameras could take a photo, the digital image appearing almost instantly in the hologram above the fairy’s head. The agent’s fingers flew over the keyboard for another minute before he finally paused and addressed Peter. 

“How long do you plan on staying in New York?”

“I’ll stay with Wade for as long as he’ll have me,” Peter said honestly, throwing Wade a smile. He was elated when his friend returned it. 

Coulson typed into the keyboard for a second before continuing. “And your current plans involve visiting New York under the express purpose of tourism?”

Peter tilted his head at the question. 

“He’s asking if you’re just here to see the city,” Clint clarified as he leaned over the table to put his head closer to Peter. 

Oh. “Well, yes,” Peter replied carefully, “but I don’t want to leave any time soon. I’d like to stay with Wade indefinitely, if that’s possible.”

“Ah, so you’re looking to become a citizen of New York City?” 

Peter hummed an affirmative answer, fidgeting where he stood as he watched Coulson type. He felt Wade’s fingers brush against his side, the touch helping to ease some of his tension. Peter let out a shaky breath and laid a hand on top of his friend’s gloved finger, grateful for the support. 

Coulson’s voice brought Peter back to the task at hand. “And in the future when Wade is sent off on a mission, where do you intend to stay?”

The fairy blinked stupidly as his brain ground to a halt. He hadn’t actually thought that far ahead. “Um, I’m not sure,” he started hesitantly, turning to face Wade. “I could go with you?” 

“No can do, Petey,” Wade denied with a shake of his head. “Like I said, I don’t want you anywhere near another battlefield.”

“Then what will I do while you’re gone?” Peter asked, picking at Wade’s glove. “I don’t want to be by myself.”

“He could always stay with us,” Clint offered, shrugging nonchalantly when all eyes fell on him. “Peter’s good company, so I doubt the rest of the team would mind.”

Peter gaped at the man. “Really?” he gushed excitedly, draping himself over Wade’s hand to get closer to the other hero. 

Clint smiled at the reaction and shifted in his seat. “Sure, no problem.”

“Oh, can I, Wade?” Peter begged, grabbing a hold of the man’s thumb as he turned and gave him his biggest puppy-dog eyes. “Please?”

“I dunno Petey…”

“SHIELD would agree to such an arrangement as long as certain parameters were in place,” Coulson cut in as his fingers moved over the keys, never once losing track of his work.

Clint sat up in his chair and faced Coulson with a frown. “Like what?” 

“Well, Peter would need to remain in designated areas of Avengers Tower where he can be properly supervised by one or more of the team. For now, he is considered a guest and thusly holds the lowest level of security clearance. Until such a time as he is given permission to enter high security locations, he must be treated as a regular citizen.”

“Ah,” the archer murmured, resting his cheek in his palm. “That makes sense, I guess.”

As the two men fell into a discussion about the possibility of Peter staying with the Avengers, the fairy ignored them in favor of watching Wade. The hero was being suspiciously quiet as he sat in his chair, staring down at Peter blankly. The fairy could feel the tip of Wade’s thumb as it moved to brush his cheek gently, the leather cool on his skin. Another swipe of the digit followed soon after, and Peter decided that it was time to break the silence.

“Are you okay?” he questioned in a low voice, squeezing Wade’s hand reassuringly. 

The hero sighed through his mask at the question, but gave a jerky nod nonetheless. He lifted his head to look at Coulson across the table, the white eyes of his costume appearing hard in the florescent lighting of the room. 

“Listen Coully, Clint,” Wade started, his attempt at a playful tone unconvincing, “I appreciate the gesture, but I’d rather have Peter stay with someone else - someone I trust above all others.”

“And who might that be?” Coulson wondered aloud, pausing to watch Wade carefully. Clint’s gaze turned to the other hero, as well.

“Agent Preston.”

That seemed to catch Coulson by surprise. He blinked, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. He hummed thoughtfully for a moment then dropped his eyes to the table and went back to typing. 

“I see. I must admit that Agent Preston hadn’t crossed my mind as a possible caretaker for Peter. Is she aware that he’s visiting you, Mr. Wilson?”

“Not yet,” Wade said, shrugging noncommittally, “but with all the other crazy shit I’ve put her through, I doubt she’d have an issue with watching Petey-Pie for me. Hell, she’ll probably be shocked at how tame of a request it is.”  

Coulson hummed at the response, his expression passive. Clint reached over to lay a hand on Wade’s shoulder in a show of support for the other’s suggestion. “And if Preston does have an issue watching Peter,” he added jovially as he grinned at Peter, “just remember that he’s welcome to stay with the Avengers.” 

Coulson cleared his throat, the noise garnering everyone’s attention. “Alright, that proposal is acceptable to SHIELD,” he declared, typing away. “So just to clarify, in the event of Deadpool leaving New York for the purposes of a mission, Peter shall remain in the care of agent Emily Preston. If for any reason Agent Preston is unavailable, the responsibility of watching over Peter will fall to the Avengers.” Coulson looked away from the holoscreen and shifted his gaze from Peter to Wade. “Mr. Wilson, Peter, do you agree with this arrangement?”

“Yes!” Peter yelled happily as he hopped in place.

“Works for me,” Wade said, albeit far less enthusiastic.

“It’s settled, then,” Coulson agreed, typing away. 

The rest of the meeting progressed in much the same way, with Coulson asking what, to Peter, sounded like random questions. These included whether he had access to magic or carried any ties to villainous groups. Wade objected to some of the agent’s inquiries, only to grunt angrily when Peter answered them anyway. 

When Peter was finished assuring the agent that he held no extraordinary powers or abilities and had no plans to harm human civilization, Coulson offered him an approving nod. The man’s fingers flew over the keyboard as he finalized his notes in Peter’s file, then with a touch of a button he closed out the program and shut down the hologram system. 

As the screen flickered out of existence and Peter’s information disappeared along with it, Coulson pushed back his chair and stood with an easy smile on his face. “Gentleman, it’s been a pleasure to speak to you. Please, allow me to show you out.”

Clint and Wade rose to their feet at the obvious dismissal, the archer pushing his chair in while Wade left it where it sat. The hero in red leaned down and held his palm out to Peter in invitation, the fairy climbing onto his hand without any further coercing. Peter plonked himself down in the center of Wade’s palm and grinned up at the man as he was carried out of the room, Clint and Coulson trailing close behind. 

Peter watched the agent flip off the lights in the room and close the door with a soft click, the security panel beeping to indicate that the door was locked once more. “Gentlemen, if you please,” Coulson said, gesturing for Wade and Clint to return to the elevator. 

Together, the group walked to the end of the hallway and entered the lift, Coulson scanning his badge and pressing the button that would take them back down to the parking garage. The trip was taken in relative silence, with all three humans standing as far apart as possible in the small space. 

Upon entering the elevator Wade had immediately put his back to the far wall, Peter still sitting atop the man’s palm with his wings tucked loosely behind him. As they descended, the hero moved to hold Peter close to his stomach, his gloved fingers curling inward toward the fairy. Peter threw the man an inquisitive look at the action, but Wade’s gaze was locked on the elevator door. After a moment of studying his friend, Peter simply shrugged and wrote off the odd behavior as Wade being Wade. 

Wishing to make himself more comfortable in his friend’s grasp, Peter leaned back until he was flush against the warmth of Wade’s body. Once situated he rolled his head to the side and stared at the digital panel on the elevator’s wall, his heavy eyelids fluttering as he counted along with the descending numbers.

When they reached the ground floor Wade practically threw Coulson aside to escape the elevator, his steps quick as he passed the rows of parked vehicles to return to the agent’s car. He waited impatiently for the other two humans to catch up, piling into the backseat the moment the agent unlocked the vehicle. 

As Coulson slid into the driver’s seat once more he turned and offered to give Wade a lift back to his apartment. But the hero turned him down, insisting that he could catch a taxi once he made it back out onto the street. Coulson complied without a fight, buckling himself in before backing out of the parking space and pulling slowly up to the secure exit. With a swipe of his badge and a quick tap on the keypad located on the side of the car lane, the heavy steel door opened to allow them passage out of the building.

They drove to the end of the street where Coulson dropped Wade off as promised, while Clint chose to remain in the car. As Wade and Peter stepped out, the other hero leaned over on the backseat and whistled to get their attention. 

“Hey, if you’re both free tomorrow, why don’t you come over to the Tower? I’m sure everyone would be excited to speak to Peter again, especially Tony and Bruce.” 

Wade managed to awkwardly cross his arms despite the fact that Peter was still sitting on his palm. “We’re busy tomor-”

“We’d love to!” Peter cut in before the man could finish, waving goodbye and grinning slyly when Wade grumbled and slammed the car door shut with a huff. “See you then!” Peter added and curled deeper into Wade’s hold.

Clint waved back as the vehicle drove off, a matching smirk on his face. Wade and Peter watched him go, the hero’s body tense until the black sedan turned a corner and disappeared from view.

“Well, that was about as much fun as a sandpaper dildo,” Wade declared, holding Peter close to his chest while he dug his phone out of his pocket. “Let’s head home, Baby Boy. I’m beat.”

Peter agreed wholeheartedly, his eyelids already drooping while his mouth opened wide in a yawn. He shivered at a passing breeze, cuddling closer to the other’s chest to ward off the chilly night air. Peter patted the material of the hero’s suit as Wade called up a taxi service and gave their location before hanging up the phone with a tap of his thumb. Once he’d replaced the device back into his pocket, Wade brought up his other hand and cupped Peter between them. 

“You gonna make it all the way home?” he asked in a hushed tone, watching as Peter nuzzled sleepily into his hold. “Want to go back in the pouch?”

“‘M alright,” Peter mumbled back, barely keeping his eyes open. He was so tired... 

Wade chuckled at his slurred reply. “Suit yourself.”

The cab arrived within the next few minutes, but Peter was fading fast. His eyes drooped as Wade held him, the hero climbing into the back seat of the car as he gave the driver the address. He settled heavily into the cushion with Peter in his grasp, and the last thing the fairy knew before sleep claimed him was the steady thump of Wade’s heartbeat under his ear.

Peter awoke what felt like mere seconds later to Wade unlocking the front door and making his way into the apartment. The human closed and locked the door behind them, then stepped carefully into the living room to switch on the floor lamp. He cradled Peter beneath his chin throughout the process, the fairy pressed snugly to his neck. 

Wade milled about in the living room for a moment before making a beeline for the kitchen to rummage through the fridge for a bedtime snack. As Wade searched through the mess of food on the shelves with his free hand, Peter could hear him start to mumble under his breath. While he was barely able to distinguish what the hero was saying, Peter did recognize White’s name amidst Wade’s rambling. 

Now he _knew_ something must be bothering the man if Yellow and White were getting involved. 

Gathering himself enough to lift his head from Wade’s throat, Peter rubbed his eyes and murmured, “What’s wrong?”

It took Wade a second to answer, the man clearly trying to deflect Peter’s suspicions as he muttered, “Nothing, I’m just hungry. Fighting baddies and hanging out with wet blanket SHIELD agents makes me peckish.” 

“Is White hungry, too?” Peter pushed, still skeptical.

“I guess.”

Peter sighed at the non answer. “Wade,” he groaned, too tired to keep up this charade any longer, “please be honest. What’s upsetting you? Is it Agent Coulson? ‘Cause he seemed very nice when we spoke, so I don’t think you need to worry about him anymore.”

“It’s not so much Coulson himself as it is SHIELD and the Avengers as a whole.”

“But why?” Peter wondered, perplexed at Wade’s continued distrust of people he claimed as friends. “Coulson wasn’t interested in sending me off to battle, he was fine with the idea of me staying with Emily while you’re away, and he even approved of my visit to the Avengers Tower. Isn’t that what you wanted? For me to be safe and to get to know your other hero friends?”

Wade was quiet as he pulled a take-out box from the fridge and closed the door with his elbow. He snatched a fork out of the utensil drawer and balanced both in one hand while he wandered over to the kitchen table to drop heavily into a seat. Then he flipped open the top of the container, took a second to roll up his mask, and dug in hungrily.

Peter watched Wade from his vantage point under the man’s chin, the sounds of the hero’s chewing loud in his ears. It was never a good sign when Wade ignored him, so the fairy reached up to tap lightly on the other’s jaw, determined to get a response. 

“Wade, tell me why you don’t want me to spend time with SHIELD and the Avengers. I want to understand.”

Wade took a few more large bites of the leftovers (Chinese food, it looked like), chewing thoughtfully before swallowing. He whispered under his breath to White and Yellow, going back and forth with them in what Peter assumed was a heated debate. Then finally, after several long moments of waiting, Peter was rewarded with an answer to his question.

“It’s just...damn it Pete, not everyone in SHIELD is my biggest fan,” Wade explained in a wounded tone, gesturing wildly with his fork. “Hell, even the Avengers aren’t super happy with me at the moment.” Wade tightened his grasp and brought Peter closer to his jaw, his voice tentative as he admitted, “I’m afraid they’ll say something about me that’ll scare you off.”

Peter was completely dumbfounded. “Like what?”

“I don’t know!” Wade said, sounding frustrated. “There are a bunch of reasons why people don’t like to hang around me.”

“Like your skin?”

Peter felt Wade flinch. “Yeah, that’s one of the big ones.”

“Oh Wade, none of that matters to me,” he assured with a pat to Wade’s neck. “I like you because of who you are on the inside, not what you look like. Please believe me - nothing anyone says could change the way I feel about you.”

Wade let out a shaky breath. “Petey…”

“But if it will help you feel better, I’ll make you a promise,” Peter continued, placing his hand flat on the other’s bumpy flesh. “I swear to you right here and now that no matter what SHIELD or the Avengers say, I won’t let it affect our friendship.”

Peter could feel the hero swallow thickly beneath his hand, his jaw flexing rhythmically for a moment as, Peter assumed, Wade tried to work up the nerve to speak. The fairy rested his head on the other’s throat and closed his eyes as he waited silently for a response, his body more than ready for bed. 

Wade eventually took a deep breath through his nose and tilted his head to the side, his jaw brushing Peter’s head. “Thanks Baby Boy,” he whispered, his words loud in the silence of the apartment. “I really... like you, too.”

They spent the rest of Wade’s mediocre meal in silence, the only sounds being the clanking of Wade’s fork as it landed in the sink and the _thunk_ of the empty take-out box dropping into the trash can. Peter fought valiantly to stay awake throughout the whole ordeal, and when his friend had finished turning out the lights and had carried him to the bedroom, Peter was ready to sleep. 

He mumbled incoherently as Wade moved over to the dollhouse, the hero laying Peter gently on the fairy-sized bed. He waited for Peter to kick off his shoes and fall back onto the mattress before tucking him in, the man’s movements awkward in the limited space. Once he was satisfied with his work, the hero turned and began to ready himself for bed, the thumping of his receding footsteps reverberating throughout the room. 

Peter closed his eyes as he listened to his friend rummage around the room and throw on his night clothes, the noise strangely soothing. When he finally heard the telltale sounds of Wade’s sheets rustling and his quiet sigh as he settled into bed, Peter allowed his body to relax and fell swiftly into unconsciousness.

The next morning found Wade and Peter seated inside a local diner, an enormous plate of waffles covered in powdered sugar laid out before them. The fairy sat directly in front of the tower of fluffy deliciousness, his cheeks filled with food while he hungrily shoveled more into his mouth. Wade’s table manners weren’t much better, bits of waffle falling from his unmasked lips as he chewed. Thankfully they’d chosen a booth near the back of the diner, so they were out of sight of the other patrons. 

The only other human they had to interact with was the waitress for their table, a young woman with long blue hair and a nose ring. At first she hadn’t known what to make of the costumed man and his companion, but after receiving a generous tip and a playful shush from Wade, she’d taken their order without a fuss. Now she was successfully ignoring them, which suited both Peter and Wade just fine. 

They polished off the plate in record time and took a few minutes to relax and digest. Peter lay splayed out on his back on the table, groaning as he rubbed his belly. Wade was in the same boat, having unbuckled his belt to give his stomach some additional room. 

“Ugh, I think I might actually explode,” Wade groaned as he leaned his head back on the edge of the booth. “That would definitely be a new way to go - death by waffle.”

“That sounds like a terrible headline. You’ll have to jazz up the language for the papers,” Peter quipped, grinning up at the hero.

“Oh?” Wade snorted, a large smirk on his face. “How about _Local man beaten by breakfast_?”

Peter sat up and wrapped his arms around his knees, his discomfort forgotten in favor of critiquing Wade’s work. “Not bad, but it could use more flair,” he suggested, trying and failing to keep the impish grin off his face.

The hero pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes as if in deep thought. “Okay,” he started, holding a finger in the air dramatically, “what about _Citizen waffles between life and death_?”

“Almost,” Peter laughed, his eyes full of mirth. “I’m loving the word play, but you’re forgetting one important detail.”

Wade appeared genuinely perplexed. “I am?”

“Yep,” the fairy said, rocking in place. “You’ve got to let the readers know who you are! Like this: _Hungry hero foiled by foodstuffs_.” Peter giggled at his own joke and looked to Wade for a reaction, but he was underwhelmed when the other man just chuckled stiffly and looked away.

Peter watched as Wade fiddled with a napkin and stared at the blank wall beside their booth as though it were the most interesting thing in the room. He noticed the man’s lips moving as he spoke under his breath, a warning sign that Wade might be having another semi-private conversation with his boxes.

Before he could question the man’s lackluster response, Wade turned back to him with a crooked smile. “Good one,” he said as he tossed the wad of paper on the empty plate and fished out his wallet. “The hero bit was a nice touch.” Then he threw a few bills onto the table for the waitress and climbed to his feet with a groan.

“It’s time to go, Pete,” Wade declared suddenly, stuffing his wallet back into his pocket. “Avengers Tower awaits.”

Peter practically vibrated with energy at the words, jumping to his feet and running to the edge of the table. It was easy to forget about Wade’s previous awkwardness in the face of their impending visit with the Avengers. 

Peter waited impatiently while Wade buckled his belt and made himself presentable, lowering his mask and tucking it back into place with a practiced touch. “You ready?” the hero asked unnecessarily, holding his hand out to Peter. The fairy hopped onto Wade’s palm and fluttered his wings behind him excitedly, his mind awash with questions he had for the group of heroes.

“Let’s go!” Peter shouted, uncaring as several humans nearby turned to glare at them.

Wade chuckled at his reaction, some of his usual humor returning. “Alright then, Baby Boy, hold on to your butt. It’s time to see a man about an origin story.”


	10. Avengers' Associate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the late posting. I had a very hard time writing this chapter for one reason or another, and I haven't had a lot of time to work on it due to some personal stuff. I also just found out today that my father passed away, so that's another thing for me to process.
> 
> I'm hoping that I can get the next chapter out within a reasonable time-frame. Please bear with me.

Avengers Tower was more extravagant than Peter could have ever imagined. The building rose high into the sky and its shiny windows glared brightly in the morning sunlight. Peter wiggled in his spot on Wade’s shoulder, finding it hard to remain seated with the thrill of adventure rushing through his veins. He knew that he and Wade must be quite the sight walking along the sidewalk, but at the moment Peter didn’t care. 

Let the humans gawk - he knew that he was safe with Wade.

The hero came to a stop in front of the building’s entrance, his head tilted back as he stared up at the structure. Peter’s focus was more on the ground level, the fairy studying the array of doors that stood before them and the flood of humans going in and out of the building at a rapid pace. Peter could see through the glass into the front foyer, and his heart beat wildly as he recognized the flurry of movement inside. 

To Peter’s surprise, the Tower appeared to be just as busy as SHIELD’s headquarters.

“Are all of those humans superheroes?” he asked Wade with an edge of awe in his voice, watching the people beyond the doors with rapt attention.

Wade hummed to indicate that he’d heard the question, but he didn’t answer right away. When the silence had stretched on for several seconds, Peter tore his gaze from the Tower and looked to his friend. The hero was staring straight ahead with his hands on his hips and he was shuffling in place as though nervous, his head turning to take in their surroundings. Peter watched him for a moment, concerned, before opening his mouth and repeating his question. 

This time his question managed to pull Wade from his anxious fidgeting long enough to garner a reply.

“Naw, I’d wager that most of them are normal people.”

Peter furrowed his brow in confusion. “If they’re not heroes then why are they in the Avenger’s Tower?”

“ _Avenger’s Tower_ is just the frou-frou name Tony gave to his company’s headquarters. All of the people inside are probably his employees and customers.”

“Oh.” 

That made sense, Peter supposed. But then, “Does that mean that Tony owns this entire building?”

“Yep, and all the rats beneath it.”

Now Peter was beyond impressed. His face lit up as Wade stood tall and proceeded inside, the hero’s head held high despite all of the stares they received. A few of the employees milling about in the lobby even turned tail and fled when they spotted the pair, which struck Peter as strange. Why would someone run from a super hero?

They strolled up to the impeccably carved reception desk, the woman behind the counter appearing nervous at their approach. Peter wasn’t sure if it was due to Wade’s imposing presence or the array of weapons on his person, but the fairy figured that either was a plausible reason for her apprehension.

“May I...help you?” the woman murmured, her eyes moving from Wade’s mask over to Peter. She blinked stupidly at the sight of the fairy, her jaw dropping open to show a gleam of perfectly white teeth. “What-”

“Yeah, hi,” Wade cut in, slapping his palm on the counter while a smile pulled at the material of his mask, “we’re here to see Tony Stark and the rest of his Brat Pack. They should be expecting us.”

“Really?” the receptionist replied in a disbelieving tone, one perfectly manicured eyebrow rising primly. Peter noticed her subtly reach toward the edge of her desk, her fingers curling beneath the wood while her eyes remained on Wade.

The hero leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as they shot from the woman’s face to her wandering hand. “Yes, really. And before you hit that silent alarm, could you be a dear and contact Stark? He’ll verify that I’m not trespassing.” _This time_ , he added in a stage whisper.

The woman pursed her lips but did as requested, using her free hand to dial a number into her desk phone, her gaze never leaving Wade. There was silence while the call went through, and when someone eventually picked up the other line she proceeded to speak quietly into her headset. The conversation mainly focused on whether she should contact the police or allow the hero passage into the private elevators, and as it progressed the woman went from snide to unsure. 

Wade merely smiled throughout the call as he rested on his elbow, grin still in place. When the receptionist ended the call, he threw her a shit-eating smirk and asked, “So? What did he say?”

“Mr. Stark said that you may be transported to the Avenger’s common area, but you must first surrender any and all weapons you might be carrying.” She glared pointedly at the swords crisscrossing Wade’s back and the various knives and handguns adorning his hips. 

Wade huffed and glared right back at the receptionist. They stared each other down in tense silence, Peter glancing between them with a look of confusion. What was the issue? Why would Tony demand that Wade leave his weapons at the counter? Did he not trust Wade? And in turn, why would Wade be so irritated at the idea in the first place? He didn’t need his weapons during a friendly visit, so what was the problem?

After a moment Wade finally seemed to relent, his expression softening into a jovial smile. Peter gave a sigh of relief at the man’s apparent consent, but the sentiment quickly faded into dread when Wade threw his arms into the air and feigned discontent.

“Golly jee, I guess we’re not welcome, Petey. Damn, and I was really looking forward to this meeting with Iron Dick, too.” Wade shook his head dramatically and turned on his heel, his boots slapping heavily on the tiled floor as he marched toward the entrance. “Ah well, Baby Boy. We tried. What d’you say to another TMNT marathon? TV Guide said they’re going to play all of the classic cartoon episodes. That’s enough ‘90s cheese to last us a week!”

“Wade?” Peter asked gently, effectively breaking into Wade’s one-man conversation about his favorite ninja turtle. The hero paused in front of the building’s front doors at Peter’s soft question, though he didn’t turn his head toward the fairy. 

Peter shifted closer to the man’s ear and rested his hand lightly on the material of the other’s mask. He waited until Wade’s jaw pushed against his hand before pleading, “Come on, just leave your weapons here.” He pet his friend’s face soothingly. “You won’t need them. We’ll be safe with Tony, I’m sure of it.” 

He felt Wade tense beneath him, the hero crossing his arms haughtily in front of his chest and stewing quietly for several seconds before snorting and turning back to the receptionist. 

Wade dropped his arms and stomped his way over to the desk, shouting “Fine!” to no one in particular before sloughing off his swords and practically throwing them at the shocked woman. “Take them, you harpy!” he snapped, his hands moving to snatch the rest of his knives and handguns from their holsters. He laid them down on the counter between them, the area soon overflowing with dangerous goods. 

Now completely unarmed, Wade shoved a finger in the woman’s face and snarled a warning. “But if I find even one scratch on those babies you’ll be hearing from my lawyer!”

The receptionist gaped at him in silent shock, Wade’s swords still held loosely in her arms. “I’ll....I’ll buzz you up,” she managed after a long moment, fumbling with the bundle in her hold to reach a keypad embedded in the counter. She typed in a long sequence of numbers and with a _ding_ , the elevator directly behind her opened and the calm robotic voice of FRIDAY floated out into the reception area.

“Good morning, My Dope-Ass Fresh Prince, Mr. Peter. I’m glad to see you both well.”

Peter’s excited greeting was drowned out by Wade’s less enthusiastic, “What’s with the strip search, FRIDAY?”

“I apologize, but Mr. Stark has expressly forbidden carrying weapons throughout the facility unless in a dire emergency.”

Wade tutted as he entered the elevator and watched the doors close with a huff. “Bullshit,” he snapped as they began to ascend. “I know for a fact that he lets Romanov and Barton carry pistols while they’re watching cartoons, or playing Scrabble, or whatever it is they do in their spare time.”

“Agents Romanov and Barton have a higher security clearance than yourself, Mr. Dope. Would you like for me to lodge an official complaint with Mr. Stark on your behalf?”

“See that you do.”

Peter listened to the back and forth banter with a smile on his face and his hands in his lap, his gaze roving over the inside of the elevator as they rose. He wasn’t sure where exactly they were headed - something about a common area? - but he hoped they’d have the opportunity to see Tony’s lab. The promise of more technology and wondrous inventions had Peter practically salivating.

The elevator ride ended with another _ding_ , the doors opening to reveal a large, spacious area awashed in bright sunlight that streamed through the wall-to-wall windows. There were multiple comfy couches surrounding a coffee table near the back wall, several flat-screen t.v.s hanging from the ceiling, a bar area, small kitchen, and enormous bookshelves overflowing with books. 

It was the most breathtaking room Peter had ever seen.

“Where are we?” he whispered in awe, his head turning to take it all in.

“Prime real estate, Petey,” Wade piped up, whistling lowly. “Only the best for Iron Lung.”

“This is the Avenger’s common room,” FRIDAY offered in her accented voice, the sound coming from all around them. “Please make yourselves comfortable. Agent Romanov is on her way to greet you.”

“Black Widow is coming?” Wade mused, pretending to fix his hair as he wandered further into the room. “My, my, and here I am looking a mess.”

Peter glanced up at the ceiling. “Is Tony here as well?” he inquired, his question ending in a squeak when Wade plopped heavily onto a sofa, the sudden drop jostling Peter in place.

“Mr. Stark is currently in his lab with Dr. Banner. They have been informed of your arrival and will meet with you shortly.”

Peter grinned at the news and hopped to his feet, far too excited to sit. He waited with Wade on the couch, his friend mumbling to his boxes as he glared at nothing. Peter’s mood soured in the face of Wade’s obvious distress and he stepped over to press himself against Wade’s neck in an offer of comfort. 

It was hard watching Wade act as though they were there to face down an enemy instead of simply seeing friends. Peter remembered the hero explaining that he was afraid of what they’d say about him - that they’d somehow chase Peter off with their words. He wasn’t sure how to build Wade’s confidence in their relationship; to assure the hero that he cared for him no matter what SHIELD or the Avengers said.

Peter snuggled against Wade’s heated mask with a soft sigh, listening idly to his whispered conversation with Yellow and White. Face pulling into a worried frown, the fairy continued to run his fingers over the other’s mask in slow strokes, silently hoping that Wade would soon realize the truth behind Peter’s words of acceptance and friendship. Until then, Peter would support the other man in any way he could.

The sound of the elevator chiming caught the attention of both hero and fairy, the two of them looking over to see Black Widow strutting into the room. She was no longer wearing the tight cat suit from the night before, instead dressed down in jeans, tennis shoes, and an overlarge t-shirt. 

“Hello boys,” she said in greeting, a coy smile turning up her lips, “how kind of you to drop in.”

“Stark must be trying to butter me up if he’s sending you in here first,” Wade joked, getting to his feet slowly. His gaze never left Natasha as she approached them with muted steps, the woman coming to a stop nearby without taking a seat. 

“Stark knows that you can be unpredictable. I’m here to see what kind of mood you’re in today.”

“Oh, well, in that case,” Wade started, throwing his arms out to his sides and jostling Peter in the process, “I’m having a Moody Monday. How about giving Pool Daddy some sugar to make him feel better?” he asked, taking slow steps toward Natasha.

“It’s Tuesday,” Natasha pointed out as she easily side-stepped Wade and backed away, putting a good three feet of space between them. 

Wade pouted visibly through his mask. “A Testy Tuesday, then. Those are even worse than Moody Mondays.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Gesundheit.”

Natasha huffed out a laugh before turning her attention to the fairy on the man’s shoulder. “Good morning, Peter. It’s wonderful to see you again.”

Peter perked up at the woman’s words, his eyes wide but bright. “Good morning!” he crowed, rushing forward on Wade’s shoulder to teeter on the edge. “I’m so glad to be here! _We’re_ so glad to be here!” he added, gesturing to an uninterested Wade. “The Avenger’s Tower, wow! Thank you so much for inviting us!” 

Peter paused in his rambling as a thought crossed his mind, his back straightening in sudden panic as he started to babble anew. “I-I mean, I thought you invited us. You invited us, right? Clint invited us. Clint Barton. You know him, right? He’s an Avenger, too. He said we could come visit with the team today.” Peter’s arms jerked at his sides as nervous sweat broke out on his palms, his wide eyes watching Natasha’s amused face with growing trepidation. “He did say that, didn’t he? Oh man, I’m so sorry if I misheard him! It’s okay, we can come back la-”

His anxious chatter ended in a squeak when one of Wade’s gloved hands reached up to pluck Peter from his shoulder and bring him around in front of Wade’s chest. 

“What Petey is trying to say,” Wade started, poking the now furiously blushing fairy in the cheek with his free hand, “is that it was super nice of Clint to invite us up. That man is cooler than Ranch Doritos.” The hero paused then and looked around the room, stretching his neck comically to get a look around the obviously empty common area. “Wait a minute, where _is_ Barton?”

“He’s out getting some breakfast. He should be back later,” Natasha replied as she pushed her hair behind her ear with a delicate brush of a hand. She appeared extremely at ease in the presence of her two guests, all of the previous night’s malice apparently forgotten. However, despite her calm demeanor, Peter couldn’t help but notice that her gaze was harsh and calculating. 

Now Peter understood why Wade had been acting restless and irritated earlier. This woman was _terrifying_.

He heard Wade sniff haughtily at the news. “Cool Ranch invites us here and then has the audacity to stand us up? Hmph!” 

Natasha shrugged nonchalantly and wandered over to the bar area on the opposite side of the room. She worked quickly to make herself a drink, her eyes on her task, but Peter noticed that she kept Wade in her peripheral vision at all times. The fairy frowned at Natasha’s continuing distrust, his mind running over possible ways he could smooth out the situation and set things on a more amiable course.

Deciding that some light conversation was in order, Peter wiggled out of Wade’s grasp and fluttered over to land next to Natasha’s glass. The heroine’s gaze flickered over to him, her head tilting slightly in question. Peter fidgeted under her scrutiny but pressed onward, drawing himself up and staring Natasha straight in the eye. 

“Thank you again for having us over,” he said, proud that he hadn’t stuttered or become tongue-tied. “It’s nice to see you, Ms. Romanov. I’m honored to be speaking to a bona-fide Golden Girl.”

Silence descended in the room after Peter’s comment, the heavy atmosphere only broken by a single aborted snort from Wade. The Black Widow stared openly at Peter, her lips slightly parted as she tried and failed to speak. She blinked once before her eyes slid over to a quietly amused Wade. “What on Earth have you been telling this boy, Wilson?”

Wade shrugged as his lips pulled up into a smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Agent Romanov. Seems to me that Petey just gave you one of the greatest compliments any human being could hope to receive.”

“Yes!” Peter continued swiftly, drawing Natasha’s gaze,“Like on the show, Ma’am. You’re exactly like the great Bea Arthur - intelligent, witty, and tough as nails.”

As understanding slowly dawned on her face, Natasha hid a smile behind her hand and lowered her eyelids coyly. “Ah, I see.” She chuckled, dropping her hand back to the bar’s counter. “Well then, thank you, Peter, I appreciate the compliment. And it’s good to see you, as well.” Her grin widened as Peter blushed crimson at her words.

“Yep, we’re all happy to be here,” Wade half-yelled, startling the fairy as he barrelled over to the bar and into the conversation. “All hero all the time, that’s my motto. Do you have a motto, Widow? I bet you have a motto. Something that screams, ‘I know 100 ways to kill a man.’ I bet they’re all hot, too. Where’s everyone else, again?” he blurted in rapid succession, plopping himself down on a stool next to a bewildered Peter.

Natasha merely raised one well-manicured eyebrow at Wade’s rambling before giving an answer to the last question. “Tony and Bruce should be arriving shortly. I also heard that Steve would be hanging around the Tower today, so he may be able to pay you a quick visit, as well.”

“Awesome,” Wade said, his fingers drumming noisily on the bar countertop. Peter wandered over to sit down in front of his friend, his legs curled up in front of him. He placed his hands on his knees and tilted his head back to look at Wade, smiling reassuringly.

“I’m sure everyone will have a great time once we get settled in,” Peter said, warmth filling his chest when Wade offered him a wide smile in return. 

“I think we will, too,” Natasha agreed, picking up her finished drink and knocking it back in three quick gulps. She set it down with a soft _clack_ , the noise almost drowned out by the racket of Wade’s whistles and appreciative clapping. Natasha shook her head and gave a little sigh at the man’s reaction before saying, “If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I’m going to go see what’s taking Stark and Banner so long.”

FRIDAY’s voice filled the room then, her tone light as she asked, “Would you like for me to summon them, Agent Romanov?”

Natasha waved away the offer. “No, no, that won’t be necessary. I’ll head down there on my own. FRIDAY, would you please keep an eye on our guests while I’m gone?”

“Of course.”

Natasha abandoned her glass on the counter and walked back toward the awaiting elevator, her feet pausing just outside of the open doors. She turned her head to look over her shoulder, her eyes catching Wade’s from across the room. “Oh, and Wade?” she started, her voice light and conversational, “I actually know of 274 ways to kill a man. I’d be more than happy to run through the list with you later, if you’re interested.” Then she was gone, disappearing behind the closing doors. 

“A Golden Girl, indeed,” Wade muttered as he lay his cheek in his hand. His fingers continued to rap incessantly against the surface of the bar, his head turned and his gaze far away. Peter watched him for a moment before climbing back to his feet and waving to catch Wade’s attention. When the man tilted his head to glance in Peter’s direction, the fairy hopped into the air and fluttered up so he was level with Wade’s face.

“I’m starting to feel a little nervous about meeting everyone again,” Peter confessed shyly, his hands fidgeting at his sides. “Clint and Natasha are nice, and Tony and Steve seem to like me, but I haven’t met this ‘Dr. Banner’ person. Do you think he’ll like me, too?”

Wade dropped his hand back to the bar counter and straightened up in his seat, his grin wide under his mask. “Of course he will! Brucey B. is a scientist like Tony, so he’ll think you’re pretty cool. He’s usually a mellow guy, too, when he isn’t transforming into a giant green rage monster.”

Peter’s stomach flipped. “Um, rage monster?” he repeated in a fearful squeak.

“Yep, we call it _The Hulk_. He’s huge, green, has an affinity for smashing buildings, and he has the tightest pants you’ll see this side of the Atlantic. Seriously, it’s a mystery how he doesn’t explode out of those things like a stripper from a birthday cake.”

Peter nibbled on his lip as his mind raced and his heart thumped in his chest. The Hulk sounded like a terrifying individual. “Why does Dr. Banner turn into this Hulk person? Is that part of his super power?”

“Naw,” Wade said, shaking his head. “Apparently old Boring Banner was experimenting with gamma radiation and zapped himself with too much juice. Now he transforms into Hulk whenever he’s angry.” Wade suddenly raised a hand and wagged a finger in Peter’s face, his expression serious. “See, there’s a lesson to be learned there, Petey.”

“Don’t dabble in dangerous experiments?” 

The hero screwed up his face in confusion. “What? No. No, the lesson is to invest in baggy clothing if you ever gain Hulk powers. Believe me, the world will thank you for your modesty.” 

“Ah.”

It was then that the dulcet tones of FRIDAY’s voice filled the room. “I apologize for interrupting, gentlemen, but Mr. Stark, Dr. Banner, Captain Rogers, and Agent Romanov will be arriving shortly in the common area.”

Peter’s nerves instantly flared at the news and his stomach fluttered with nausea. “Oh geez, oh man!” he gasped, flapping his wings to turn and stare at the elevator doors. “Wade, I’m scared!”

“Just play it cool, Baby Boy,” the hero assured him, bringing his hand up so Peter could land delicately on his palm. “Be your usual cute self and you’ll have nothing to worry about.”

“O-okay,” Peter muttered, his heart jumping into his throat as the elevator doors opened and four humans piled out. He recognized Natasha, Steve, and Tony immediately, the latter two also dressed in casual clothing as they lead the way into the common room. Natasha trailed behind them at a more languid pace, while an older man with greying hair brought up the rear. He wore wire-rimmed glasses over tired eyes and his clothing was rumpled. Peter couldn’t help but feel sympathy for the clearly exhausted man.

As the new arrivals approached the bar, Wade stood up with Peter balanced precariously on his palm and greeted the others with a mock salute. “Good morning, fellow Avengers! Glad to see you all looking so well!” He then glanced over to Steve who had come to a stop next to Tony, the Captain’s bright blue eyes filled with a sort of fond exasperation. “Why, if it isn’t Captain Dorito! We were just wondering where Cool Ranch had run off to.”

“Who?” Steve asked, clearly confused.

“Dorito?” Tony muttered, throwing Steve a questioning glance.

Wade ignored their reactions and instead turned to face who Peter assumed to be Bruce Banner, Wade’s arm flung out to the side as though offering the other man a hug. Peter’s hunch as to the person’s identity was proven correct when Wade addressed the man cordially. 

“Brucey, your eyes are aglow with childlike wonder and delight! You don’t look a day over 60. Tell me, what’s your secret?”

Bruce sighed from his spot behind the rest of the group, his hand coming up to rub at the bridge of his nose as though he were fighting off a headache. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, then dropped his arm and stepped forward to make his way toward the front of the group.

“My secret is insufficient amounts of sleep paired with copious levels of stress. Now, enough about my health. I came here to meet the Avengers’ newest associate,” Bruce said, his eyes widening visibly behind his glasses when he finally got his first look at Peter. “Oh my…”

Peter perked up immediately at Bruce’s words, his own eyes wide in wonder. “Associate?” he asked, his gaze jumping from one Avenger to the next for confirmation that he hadn’t misheard. 

“Associate?” Wade parroted from behind him, the hero’s tone both irritated and incredulous. “What the hell, guys? It took me forever to join the team! How come Petey gets invited after one battle?”

“Because Peter isn’t an annoying oaf,” Tony answered easily, his immaculately trimmed beard shifting as he smirked. 

“Oh Tonykins, you come up with the cutest pet names,” Wade swooned, placing the back of his hand to his temple. “How could a lady possibly resist your smooth charms?”

Tony grimaced and mimed a gag behind his fist. “Ugh, please don’t ever say that to me again.”

“Your wish is my command, Snookums!”

Tony groaned and covered his mouth. “I think I might actually throw up.”

“Enough you two,” Steve cut in, moving to stand beside Bruce. “What Tony meant to say is that Peter has impressed us with his bravery and skills in battle and has therefore been named one of our honorary associates.”

Peter clapped his hands together in glee, an enormous grin on his face. Natasha cleared her throat as she watched him with lowered eyelids, adding, “Remember that your security clearance is still on par with a regular citizen, Peter.”

“Th-thank you!” Peter cried excitedly, bouncing in place on Wade’s palm. He grinned up at Dr. Banner and the rest of the Avengers, thrusting his hand out in front of him. “I would be honored to be a friend to the Avengers!”

The group of heroes offered him friendly smiles, Bruce and Steve even stepping forward to shake Peter’s hand. Granted, Peter couldn’t do much more than grip their pointer fingers, but the gesture was still appreciated. 

As everyone milled about beside the bar and devolved into small talk, Peter looked at Wade over his shoulder with a grin. His expression quickly wanned into a concerned frown when he realized that his friend’s face was pinched into a pensive glower. The man’s masked gaze was focused on the Avengers, his eyes narrowed as Tony said something to Bruce about Peter’s impressive flight capabilities. 

Peter let out a deep breath through his nose and wandered over to the heel of Wade’s hand. He wrapped his arms around the man’s large thumb and pressed his cheek against the material of the glove, his eyes on his friend’s face. 

Wade glanced down at the sudden pressure on his digit, his expression smoothing out when he saw that it was Peter. “Having a good time, Baby Boy?” he asked in a low voice.

“Mmhm,” Peter hummed, his grip tightening. “Thanks for bringing me here.” 

Wade dipped his head. “Anything for you.”

Peter gave Wade’s thumb one final squeeze before pulling away and taking to the air to flutter above the bar, the movement capturing the attention of the rest of the heroes. The fairy raised a hand shyly, a blush heating his cheeks as all eyes fell on him. 

“I’d just like to say that it was wonderful seeing you all again, and it was nice to finally meet you, Dr. Banner,” Peter started, his confidence growing slowly at the friendly responses he received. “I’m so, so happy to have been invited here today, and I certainly don’t want to impose, Mr. Stark, but, um…” 

Peter’s words petered off into silence as his blush intensified under Tony’s curious gaze. The fairy’s belly flipped nervously as he fought to get the request out, internally screaming at himself to just _ask already, Peter, jeez_! 

After a few deep breaths, he was able to find his voice. “Um,” Peter continued, almost choking on the word, “I was wondering if I could maybe, possibly, hopefully, if it’s not too much trouble, see your lab?” 

The silence that descended over the room was almost palpable. Peter cringed and shrunk in on himself as he waited for Tony’s answer, sure that the man would turn him down. However, to Peter’s surprise, Tony huffed out a friendly sounding laugh and came over to the bar, his hands in his pockets. 

“You interested in science, Peter?” he asked, regarding the little fairy with a critical eye. 

Peter jerked up straight and nodded his head enthusiastically. “Yes!”

Tony smirked at the answer, then flicked his head in the direction of the elevator. “Well then, prepare to have your mind blown, kid.”


	11. Tinker Fairy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omfg this chapter was so hard to write, homies. Peter and Wade are easy to handle when they're by themselves being so gosh darn cute, but throw in some Avengers? Holy balls, do things get difficult!
> 
> Hope you enjoy this travesty, and I'll try to get the next chapter out quickly.

The walk to Tony’s lab was both nerve-wracking and thrilling. Mr. Stark spoke highly of his newest inventions and projects, filling Peter in on all of his current research. Peter asked pertinent questions whenever Tony paused for breath, and the man was more than happy to explain anything that confused or intrigued the fairy. 

Dr. Banner also took part in the discussion, offering up his own opinions and tidbits of scientific knowledge when Peter seemed interested in a subject. The longer he spoke, the softer his expression became; the exhaustion on his face eventually replaced by calm content. 

Natasha, Steve, and Wade brought up the rear of the group as they entered the elevator and began to ascend. While the former were mostly quiet during the trip, Wade seemed incapable of keeping himself under control. He babbled furiously as the group moved toward their destination, his eyes locked on Peter as the fairy buzzed about above the others’ heads. Every time Tony or Bruce would speak directly to Peter, Wade would crack a joke or make an offhand comment to ensure that he, too, was a part of the conversation. 

The other heroes threw him irritated or resigned stares, while Peter could only chuckle uncertainly at the odd display.

The elevator came to a stop near the top floor of the tower, the doors opening with a soft chime and FRIDAY’s gentle voice welcoming them to the lab. Peter froze inside the elevator and hovered in place, his eyes bulging in shock and wonder at the scene laid out before him. 

Tony’s lab was enormous, the space filled with all sorts of mechanical marvels. Peter could hear the constant whirring of moving parts and the buzz of electricity in the air, the atmosphere of the lab surrounding him like a warm blanket. Peter’s head swiveled back and forth as he took in all of the fascinating technology, his fingers itching to tinker with the various machines and computers that littered the work space.

He was so focused on the room in front of him that he barely noticed everyone but Wade exiting the elevator. As Tony and Bruce led the way into the lab, Stark turned to address the two stragglers with a smirk on his face. 

“Welcome to my humble abode,” he said, opening his arms wide in invitation. “This is where the magic happens.”

“It’s amazing!” Peter gushed, fluttering excitedly. He heard Wade huff and looked down, startled to find the hero still standing beneath him. 

Wade looked decidedly unimpressed. “If by ‘magic’ you mean ‘nerd orgies,’ then yeah, I bet this is where it all happens,” he said, waving off Tony’s grandstanding like it was a daily occurrence. 

Tony sniffed haughtily. “You’re just jealous that we never invite you, Wilson. Speaking of which,” he started, pointing one finger at Wade threateningly, “if you touch _anything_ in this room I’ll sick Nat on you.”

Wade’s expression immediately brightened as he whooped excitedly and broke out into a jig.

Natasha raised an eyebrow and watched Wade dance in place. “Why do I have to be involved in this?”

“Because when it comes to torture our old pal Tony can’t keep it up,” Wade said, coming to an abrupt stop to cup a hand over his mouth and lean toward Widow to whisper loudly, “Must be his age.”

Steve chuckled and shook his head, mirth in his eyes as he looked from Wade to Tony. The engineer scowled at the blond and shoved his hands in his pockets, his eyes narrowing at Steve’s answering smirk.

“Don’t look too smug, Captain. I’m nowhere near the oldest person in this room.”

Steve’s smile grew. “Just the shortest.”

Peter can see Tony’s eyes flash with the promise of a challenge. Desperate to get this show on the road and end the argument before it started, Peter swooped into the fray and captured everyone’s attention with a loud cough before addressing Tony. 

“Mr. Stark, I would love to get a look at some of your projects. Would you mind giving a quick tour?” he asks, throwing the man his best puppy-dog eyes and a strategic pout for good measure. 

Tony glances at Peter at his interruption, his gaze jumping from the fairy’s wobbling lower lip to his wide, watery, and infuriatingly _adorable_ eyes. The man takes a deep breath through his nose and leans back at a severe angle, humming as though in deep thought. He appears to mull over Peter’s request before straightening and pulling his hands from his pockets. 

“I suppose.” He turned around and took a step forward, then paused to look over his shoulder and give Steve the stink-eye. “We’ll finish this discussion later, Steven.”

Steve smirked and opened his mouth to respond, but his amusement quickly changed to embarrassment when Wade gave a high pitched whistle. “Oh man, I guess we know who salutes the flag in _that_ relationship,” he said within a laugh, making obscene hand gestures at the Captain.

A deep blush broke out on Steve’s face and Tony covered a startled cough with his hand, the two men looking anywhere but at each other. Natasha turned away to hide her smirk while Bruce fought to keep his own grin in check, leaving Peter feeling like the only person in the room who didn’t understand the joke. 

Tony was the first of the two men to recover. “If you’re done, _Wilson_ , let’s get this show on the road, huh? Unlike you, I actually have important things to do today.”

FRIDAY’s voice floated down from the speakers. “Your schedule is clear for the rest of the afternoon, sir, as per your request.”

“Et tu, FRIDAY?”

As the group wandered about the room Tony talked almost non-stop about his current projects, the engineer pulling Dr. Banner into the exchange whenever possible. Peter was completely enthralled as he stood upon Tony’s shoulder, parroting all of the scientific jargon that tumbled from the man. In Peter’s eyes Tony was a genius, his ideas and accomplishments more than the fairy could have imagined possible in several lifetimes, much less one. When he said as much, Tony preened and puffed up with pride, grinning from ear to ear. 

The other Avengers stayed in Tony’s lab for close to an hour before eventually wandering off to handle other business. Steve left with a parting wave and a polite farewell, stating that he was meeting a friend for lunch. Natasha didn’t offer anything more than a short, “See you later” before disappearing down the elevator, and Bruce made himself comfortable in a separate corner of the lab to focus on his research. This left Tony, Peter, and Wade to entertain themselves, which suited Peter just fine. 

Wade had lost interest in Tony’s “science speak” near the beginning and had chosen to pull up a stool and watch their progress from across the room. He passed the time by talking to his boxes and spinning in place, the squeak of his chair only slightly distracting. Peter fretted over Wade’s ability to stay still and would take a moment to glance over at him from time to time, but his attention was always promptly stolen away by Tony. 

Like now, for instance.

“So just hold this piece right here,” Tony muttered, pointing toward a small resistor on the circuit board they were re-wiring, “while I finish the connections.”

Peter nodded as he followed the instruction, his brow knitted in concentration. At first Tony had been unsure about letting Peter assist him, but after hearing about Peter’s own personal experiments and designs he’d obliged the fairy and given him a chance to shine. After a quick breakdown of each project available, they’d settled on something simple; running a maintenance check on the inner workings of a drone. 

Peter had been ecstatic to discover that he could be of use in Tony’s lab, his small stature and delicate fingers making it easy for him to tinker with the miniscule parts of the man’s experiments. Tony seemed almost as pleased as Peter at the revelation, his hands and mouth moving a mile a minute as he walked Peter through the maintenance process. 

The two worked well together and the time flew as lunch passed and dinner swiftly approached. Peter and Tony had worked their way through multiple projects by that point, Wade growing increasingly antsy as the hours ticked by. He’d reached the point where he was cutting in every so often to comment on their work, the weather, the state of daytime television, and finally to inquire whether Peter wanted pizza or Mexican for dinner. 

Peter tried to keep Wade in the loop, but Tony was having none of his distractions. At the first sign of Wade’s interference Tony would immediately steer Peter back into the project at hand by any means necessary. It was rough to be stuck in the middle, but Peter fought hard to keep everyone happy; diverting his focus between Tony’s rushed orders and Wade’s never ending chatter. 

Peter was in the middle of juggling a conversation with Wade and working with Tony on a new memory chip for DUM-E when FRIDAY announced Clint’s arrival to the tower. The blond hero sauntered into the lab shortly thereafter, a grin plastered on his face as he took in Wade’s bored expression, Tony’s irritated scowl, and Peter’s harried appearance.

“Hey everyone! What’d I miss?”

Wade was out of his seat and in Clint’s personal space within a heartbeat. “Thank fuck! I was losing my mind with all this nerd talk!”

“Your mind was lost a long time ago,” Tony gibed without looking up from his work. Wade blew a raspberry at him.

“Sorry about that,” the archer apologized easily. “Director Fury wanted me to take care of the paperwork from that doombot battle the other day.”

Wade feigned a headache. “Ugh, mission reports! Better you than me, Hawky. I’m terrible with responsibility. Just another reason to be thankful that ol’ tall, dark, and patchy doesn’t want me anywhere near a SHIELD computer.” 

Clint crossed his arms with a huff. “Your lack of sympathy is noted. What are they up to?” he asked, nodding toward Tony and Peter. The two in question were hunched over Tony’s work table with their heads pushed together, talking under their breath. Considering Peter’s head was the size of Tony’s thumb, the image was comical.

Wade shrugged. “I already told you - nerd things.”

Clint accepted this explanation without further comment, moving around Tony and Peter to pull up a seat next to the one Wade had relinquished. “Well, while they finish up their nerd things, you wanna help me with something?”

Wade jumped at the chance to occupy his time, spending the next 45 minutes working with Clint to clean the archer’s weapons and tune his bow. Peter watched them out of the corner of his eye, and it didn’t take long for him to realize that Clint was perfectly able to perform the weapon maintenance himself. That led Peter to wonder why Clint had even bothered to ask for Wade’s assistance in the first place, but when he took in his friend’s jovial smile and easy laughter, Peter let it go.

It wasn’t much later when Peter’s stomach began to rumble, his body reminding him that he hadn’t eaten in some time. Blinking at the realization, Peter looked up from his work to inquire as to the time, only for FRIDAY to inform him that it was well past 4:00 pm. The fairy pulled himself away from Tony and the nearly finished memory chip to scan the room for Wade, embarrassed to realize that he’d lost track of the man. 

Peter found him across the room at a workbench, the hero fidgeting in his seat while a visibly frazzled Clint tried to keep his attention. Apparently the archer’s brilliant diversion tactic had lost its appeal, leaving him with a restless Wade and thinning patience. Peter couldn’t really blame him though. To be fair, Peter had to congratulate the man on managing to entertain Wade for as long as he had. He knew from experience that it was no simple task to keep his friend out of trouble, _especially_ when there was nothing good on t.v.

Peter decided that it was time to jump in. He called out to Wade to get his attention, then fluttered over to settle on the man’s thigh despite Tony’s confused protests. Peter smiled up at his friend as Wade’s entire focus turned to him, the hero cutting himself off mid-sentence in his conversation with Clint to ask Peter what was wrong. 

“I’m starving,” Peter answered honestly, rubbing his belly. “Do you want to go get something to eat?”

Wade’s face lit up at the idea of food. “Hells yes! I know just the place we can go.” He picked Peter up and placed him on his shoulder, then stood and stretched with a dramatic groan. “Well then, I guess this is goodbye. Nice seeing you, Hawky, Iron Crotch.”

“Wait a minute!” Tony interrupted, rushing over. “Peter can’t leave, we were making so much progress!” 

Wade waved him off. “Get over it. You had your fun and now it’s my turn to hang out with Petey. He likes me better, anyway.”

Tony’s eyes rolled so hard Peter was worried they’d get lost in the back of his head. “Okay, one: you _wish_ you were as cool as this, Wilson,” Tony said, gesturing to himself. “And two: I have a better idea. Instead of going out to eat, why don’t I just order in for all of us? That way we can all get some dinner and Peter can stay to help me with my work.”

Wade hemmed and hawed loudly in thought, putting his finger to his covered lip. “Hmm, sticking you with the bill _is_ tempting,” he started, tilting his head this way and that. “Just to be clear, we can order _anything_ we want?” 

“Except that,” Tony amended, shifting his weight. 

Wade deflated at the rebuttal, but within moments his mood brightened once again and he perked back up with a gasp, leaning forward excitedly.

“Or that,” Tony interrupted again, smirking when Wade threw up his hands and whined. 

The hero proceeded to throw a tantrum, pacing around the lab and complaining profusely about Tony and his ‘stupid, dumb face’ before falling to his knees in the middle of the floor. “You suck, Anthony!” Wade cried, all but rolling around on the expensive tile as he called Tony names. 

Peter abandoned ship at that point, jumping off Wade’s shoulder and into the air to fly over to Clint. The other hero was standing off to the side to observe the show from a safe distance, a look of bemusement on his face. Peter was all too happy to join him, the fairy landing soundlessly on the table next to him. 

Peter watched Wade and Tony argue for another minute, but when it seemed like it wasn’t going to end anytime soon, he knew that he’d have to step in. 

“Wade? Wade!”

Wade paused his onslaught of harsh name-calling to look over at Peter, the hero appearing surprised to see him across the room. “What’s up, Baby Boy?” he asked, plopping himself down on the floor. 

Peter offered his friend a smile before his gaze jumped to Tony. “Mr. Stark?” He waited until he’d gained the man’s attention before continuing, “I appreciate your offer, and while I would love to join you again sometime, tonight I have to politely decline.”

“Really?” Tony asked, looking disappointed. 

Wade was froze in disbelief. “Really?” he parroted, staring at Peter like he wasn’t sure what to make of him. Even Clint glanced at Peter out of the corner of his eye, the archer’s eyebrow raised curiously.

“Really,” Peter assured, hopping off the table to flutter over to Wade. He dropped onto the man’s outstretched hand and sat down comfortably, his focus on Wade as he said, “See, we have a prior arrangement scheduled today and if we don’t leave now we’re going to be late.”

Wade watched him silently, the eyes of his mask boring into Peter’s. Peter nodded at Wade and gave him a wink, grinning when his friend relaxed. He then turned back to Tony and Clint, thanking them once again for having them over and requesting that they get together again sometime soon. 

Tony managed to take the rejection in stride this time around, turning away to return to his workbench while ordering FRIDAY to clear a spot on his calendar. Clint was also easy-going about their sudden departure, the archer saying a quick farewell as he went back to cleaning his weapons. 

Taking that as their cue, Wade pushed up from the floor and stretched out his legs before heading over to the elevator. The doors slid open as they drew near, and they had just slipped inside when Tony called out to them from within the lab.

“Oh, and Wade? I heard about your hissy fit down in the lobby. Don’t harass my receptionist again or I’ll have you put back on the blacklist.”

Wade made an obnoxiously loud kissing sound. “Anything you say, shnookies!” 

“Don’t call me that!”

Wade giggled as the doors finally closed, the hero moving to set Peter back on his shoulder. “So what’s this ‘previous engagement’ of ours? I don’t remember having any plans after this.”

“Well I figured that after we stop by a pizza shop we could head home and watch the rest of that TMNT marathon,” Peter said, grinning toothily at Wade. His chest filled with warmth when the man threw him an answering smirk. 

“Sounds like a plan, Batman.”

“Who?”

Wade gave a dismissive wave of his hand, shouting a moment later when the elevator door opened. “Onward, my adorable friend! Let’s blow this popsicle stand!”

Wade marched over to the receptionist’s desk in the center of the lobby and pushed aside the woman who was currently at the counter. She gave an indignant squawk at the rough treatment and whipped her head in his direction, her eyes widening when she got a good look at the hero. She hadn’t noticed Peter yet but he was watching her, his head peeking around Wade’s neck. He saw several emotions flit across her face - shock, confusion, fear - before she swallowed heavily and stepped back without a word, her gaze falling to her shoes. 

Peter leaned forward to try and catch her eye, intending to apologize for Wade’s rudeness, but he’d barely managed to get out the first syllable when he was interrupted by his friend’s booming voice. 

“Hello again, cranky pants!” Wade cooed, slapping his hands together loudly as he addressed the familiar woman behind the desk. “I’m here for the goods.”

The receptionist looked positively scandalized. “ _Excuse me?_ ”

“You’re excused. Now hand ‘em over,” Wade said, making grabby hands at her.

The shrewd woman’s face snapped into a severe scowl at Wade’s words. “I’ve had just about enough of you, _sir_. If you don’t leave right now I _will_ hit the panic button.”

“I’m not leaving without my babies!” Wade growled, his mask bunching up at his brow. He gestured wildly at the lady, mumbling “gimme, gimme, gimme” under his breath in a continuous loop.

When the receptionist’s only response was an irritated glare, Peter spoke up. “He means his weapons, ma’am.”

The employee’s gaze fell on Peter, her face blanking in muted shock. The other lady standing nearby made a show of looking around for the source of the new voice, gasping audibly when she finally spotted Peter. The fairy fluttered his wings and spared her a momentary glance before turning back to the woman behind the counter.

Wade nodded at Peter’s words, appearing unbothered by the two gaping stares directed at them. “Yeah, like he said. Gimme my stuff back, Harpy!” he demanded, the leather of his suit creaking as he waved his arms frantically over the desk. 

Wade’s barked order brought the receptionist’s attention back to the hero, her lips turning down as she glared at his wiggling fingers. “ _Sir_ , please calm down,” she snapped, her narrowed eyes meeting Wade’s. “Your weapons were confiscated by security for safety purposes. Give me one moment and I’ll have them brought to the lobby.”

Wade huffed and whined but eventually backed off, crossing his arms petulantly while the woman contacted security. Peter patted his friend’s cheek and whispered gentle encouragements in his ear, trying his best to keep Wade calm while they waited. 

After the first minute it became clear that it wasn’t going to be a simple task, the hero mumbling irritably to Yellow and White while constantly fidgeting and shuffling in place. Peter doubled his efforts when Wade’s protests grew louder, the noise drawing the attention of a large group of humans nearby.

“Hey, hey,” Peter soothed, dropping light kisses to the man’s cheek in a desperate bid to keep him grounded. “Don’t worry. They’ll be back soon with Larry and Moe and all of your other guns and knives, too. Then we can pick up a pizza and head back home, okay?”

Wade turned his head into Peter’s touches but didn’t offer anything more than a grunt in response. Undeterred, Peter laid another set of kisses on his cheek and snuggled closer, his legs tucked underneath him. It bothered the fairy to see his friend in such distress, but Peter understood where it was coming from. He knew that Wade adored his weapons, so it wasn’t a surprise that he would be impatient to have them returned. 

Peter curled up tighter in the space between Wade’s neck and shoulder, listening to the man mutter under his breath. He scanned the lobby for signs of security with growing trepidation, knowing that the longer this took the more likely it was that Wade would lose any semblance of calm. 

Not that pacing around and grumbling to himself was _calm_ exactly, but things could be worse. Much worse.

A minute or so later, Peter sighed in relief when he finally spotted two armed security personnel, a man and a woman, exiting the public elevators. In their arms he could see a box filled with small weapons and Wade’s swords, respectively. The duo’s heads immediately turned to face the receptionist’s desk, their expressions nervous as they recognized Wade. 

Peter frowned to himself, wondering once more _why_ people tended to looked anxious upon seeing Wade. Sure, he could be intimidating at times, but Peter had learned to base his opinions of others on more than just their outward appearance. He’d seen firsthand the sweet, gentle, _kind_ man underneath the suit. A man who yearned for acceptance and fought for those he called friends. A man who would throw himself into battle without any regard for his own safety. A man who would offer Peter the world and expect nothing in return.

Yes, Peter had seen the hero beneath Wade’s harsh exterior and cocky display. And not for the first time, he wished that more people would take the opportunity to get to know Wade; to give him a chance to prove himself before turning away. Maybe then the man would have the confidence to drop his devil-may-care facade and show his true face.

As Peter was lost in his thoughts, Wade took notice of the security personnel. He threw up his arms and gave an excited shout, jostling the fairy and forcing him to grab on to Wade’s mask for dear life. The other humans around them jumped at the hero’s sudden movement, and the security guards paused for a tense couple of seconds before continuing forward. When they reached the reception desk the female guard set the katanas down on the counter and gave Wade a pointed look. 

“Your weapons, Mr. Wilson,” she said, making room for her partner to place the box filled with guns, knives, and incendiaries alongside the swords. 

Wade squealed in delight and began collecting his things, the woman beside him blanching at the sight before high-tailing it out of the building entirely. The receptionist’s frown grew more pronounced as she watched the woman leave, her gaze heavy when it returned to Wade. The security guards stood silently to one side, studying the hero warily.

It didn’t take long for Wade to reattach his various firearms and knives to his person, the last items being his handguns, Larry and Moe. Wade gave a long sigh of satisfaction when he was finished, patting the guns holstered at his hips fondly. 

“There we go, babies. You’re back with Daddy, now,” Wade cooed, staring at Larry lovingly.

“Um, Wade?” Peter asked in a small voice. He felt his friend’s muscles twitch beneath him as Wade’s head snapped up and he looked around, appearing surprised to see everyone in the near vicinity staring at him. 

“What? What’d I miss?”

Peter tapped his cheek to get his attention. “Wade, can we go now? Please?”

Wade looked at Peter out of the corner of his eye, his mouth morphing into a grin under his mask. “Of course! Let’s hit the road, _mi amigo_!”

They left Avenger’s Tower shortly thereafter (Wade having been chased out by security after maliciously knocking over a decorative vase on the receptionist’s desk) and made their way toward home. They took the subway in lieu of a taxi, and Peter felt confident enough to sit on top of the seat to watch the tunnels go by. People openly stared, but they were quick to drop their gazes when Wade noticed them. 

Once they reached their stop, Peter and Wade went topside and headed for a pizza parlour near their apartment. However, instead of going straight there, Peter was confused when his friend turned down a side street and entered a small shop. 

“So you had fun building things with Tony today, huh?” Wade asked, coming to a stop inside the main entrance of the store. 

Taken aback by the seemingly random question, Peter only hummed in response, his focus shifting to the odd wares that filled the tiny space. Human trinkets of all shapes and sizes hung from hooks and sat balanced on shelves, some of them rusted and old while others shined under the low lights. An elderly man sat behind a counter on the far side of the store, his face peeking out from behind a newspaper as he eyed them carefully. His eyebrows had risen into his hairline at Wade and Peter’s entrance, but he hadn’t moved to greet them or shoo them away, so Peter paid him no mind.

“Where are we?” Peter whispered reverently, climbing to his feet and then jumping into the air to flutter near Wade’s head. He heard the shopkeeper utter a soft, “What the hell?” at the movement, but Peter ignored him in favor of Wade’s answer.

“This is a pawn shop,” Wade explained, throwing his arms out wide. “People come here to buy and sell tons of different things. Jewelry, electronics, sexy things, you name it.” 

“Wow,” Peter breathed, gasping a moment later as one item in particular caught his eye. He flew over to land in front of a black box that he vaguely recognized from Wade’s apartment. “Look, it’s a VRC!”

“VCR,” Wade corrected, stepping over to stand behind Peter as he fiddled with the machine. 

“It’s different from the one you have.”

Wade shrugged. “Mine is a newer model, give or take about ten years.”

Peter nodded to show he was listening then lifted up the flap of the tape deck and ducked his head inside. He sneezed abruptly when he was assaulted by dust, retreating back into the cleaner air to try and clear his lungs. After coughing and rubbing his eyes, Peter glanced around the rest of the store before addressing Wade. 

“This place is really cool! Did you come here to buy something?”

“You’re half right, Pete,” Wade announced, bopping Peter on the nose with a finger. “ _You_ came here to buy something. Specifically with my money.”

“I-what?”

“See, I heard you talking with Tony about all of his nerd things,” Wade started, hands fidgeting as he spoke, “and I remember you telling me that you used to build stuff in your spare time back in the forest. Sooooo, I thought maybe it would be fun if I brought you here to buy stuff that you can tinker with at home.”

Peter stared at Wade, his lips parted in shock. He swallowed thickly and licked his suddenly dry lips, then scanned the store with a slow turn of his head. When his gaze reached his friend, he returned the man’s enormous grin with a tentative smile.

“Are you serious?” he asked, still a bit shell shocked at Wade’s continued generosity.

“Totes serious, Baby Boy. You can buy whatever you want.”

Peter whooped loudly and flew up to Wade, his hands settling on the hero’s cheeks as he dropped a kiss onto Wade’s masked nose. “Thank you so much!” he cried, pulling back and offering Wade a smile. He was startled when Wade leaned forward and kissed him back, his covered lips rough on Peter’s own.

Peter gawked at his friend as he hovered in place, his hand lifting mechanically to run shaky fingers over his lips. Did Wade just...kiss him? Peter looked into the other’s eyes and tried to open his mouth, to say _something_ coherent, but all he could manage was a confused sort of whine.

Wade threw him a saucy wink. “You’re welcome, cutie booty.”

Peter blushed crimson.


	12. Mission Briefs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omfg, this chapter took DAYS to edit! It just wanted to go in all sorts of directions and I had a hard time wrangling it into something that resembled a plot. Fingers crossed that it doesn't suck!

The following weeks were an exciting blur for Peter. He continued to visit the Avengers Tower to work with Tony and Bruce while Wade hovered in the background. Tony would grumble about having the other hero in the room at all hours of the day, but Bruce was able to calm his friend with soft assurances and subtle psychological manipulation. (The man truly had a gift with words.)

It was during one such visit when, in between projects, the inevitable happened and Tony broached the subject of studying Peter (“For science!”). However, before the engineer had had a chance to finish his thought, Wade had blown a gasket and gotten right up in Tony’s face, his tone deadly as he informed the room at large that Peter was not a guinea pig. 

Tony had looked affronted at his words while Bruce immediately apologized, stating that that was not their intent. Peter hadn’t been sure what a large rodent had to do with anything, but he definitely understood Tony’s curiosity when it came to the unknown. Because of this understanding (and the fact that Tony had taught him quite a bit about human civilization over the last few weeks), Peter had decided to reciprocate and give the man an opportunity to learn about fairykind. 

It took a lot of pleading from Peter and a guarantee of professionalism from Tony and Bruce before Wade finally caved to their demands. After some negotiations, the hero acquiesced to allowing the scientists to take scans of Peter and perform cursory examinations, but he drew the line at anything invasive. Peter had happily accepted these terms and snuck a kiss to Wade’s chin as thanks for being understanding, grinning when the grumpy hero endured the affection without a fuss. 

Granted, Wade still glared at Tony and Bruce while they worked - his gaze heavy on the three of them during the exams -  but that was a small price to pay for the overprotective man’s cooperation.

The group learned quite a bit from Tony and Bruce’s assessments, including the rather surprising discovery that Peter had vision problems. The fairy had read about the subject during his internet binge not so long ago, but he’d never imagined that he was suffering from such a condition. Tony and Bruce had seemed shocked as well, the two men immediately taking up the challenge of designing a pair of glasses for Peter. By the end of the day, Peter had left the tower with a new set of miniature corrective lenses.

While Peter had been ecstatic to receive such a gift, no one had been more enthusiastic than Wade. The hero had fawned over Peter the moment he set the glasses on his nose, the man’s coos of “so cute!” and “the most adorable nerd!” continuing long after they’d returned home. Peter allowed it, if only because he secretly enjoyed the added attention.

Outside of Tony and Bruce, there were other Avengers who wished to spend time with Peter, too. He and Wade enjoyed several meals with Clint and Natasha, while Steve met up with them at the Metropolitan one afternoon and led them through a discussion of the museum’s different forms of art. 

Peter had gawked at all of the gorgeous paintings and ancient pottery the museum had to offer, his wings fluttering with excess excitement at each new exhibit. The other humans meandering about had noticed him from time to time as he flew to and fro, but outside of taking his picture they left Peter alone. He wasn’t sure if their hesitancy was due to some innate sense of politeness or the death glares Wade had shot at them from underneath his hood, but either way, Peter appreciated the space.

The more absent members of the Avengers team also made an appearance during the following weeks. They were people who, while Avengers in title, spent a lot of time handling responsibilities or business separate from that of the team and SHIELD. 

For instance, Scott Lang, a.k.a. Ant Man, worked closely with a man named Hank Pym who owned a research and development company similar to Tony’s _Stark Industries_. His superhero suit was notable in that it allowed Scott to shrink himself down to Peter’s size, a fact which left Peter speechless when he first saw it demonstrated. They’d then spent the remainder of Scott’s visit wandering Tony’s tower and scaring the living daylights out of the man’s unsuspecting employees.

After Scott came the Falcon (or Sam Wilson, as he introduced himself) whose introduction became an unexpected ordeal. Peter had worked himself into an anxious frenzy before he’d even seen the man, arguing that, in his experience, falcons were exceptionally dangerous and not to be trifled with. 

It took some effort on Wade’s part but eventually the hero managed to talk Peter down and explain that Sam was neither an actual falcon nor did he share the creature’s bloodlust for fairykind. His assurances gave Peter the courage to face Sam head on, and what he found was a kind, compassionate man who offered easy smiles and friendly touches. Sam even seemed to accept Peter without much of an issue, merely stating that at this point in his superhero career he shouldn’t be shocked by anything anymore.

Next in line came Wanda Maximoff and Vision, who were quite a pair in their own right. Peter grew attached to them almost immediately; drawn to Vision for his knowledge and gentle disposition while Wanda’s motherly demeanor reminded Peter of his late aunt. Her powers were also remarkable, and Peter took great pleasure in watching her levitate items and move objects with her mind. 

Wade seemed to get along with Wanda and Vision pretty well, too, which was astonishing in its own right. Unlike the majority of the team, they treated the other hero as a bizarre but entertaining guest as opposed to a bothersome interruption. Peter appreciated their acceptance of Wade’s presence and their attempts to make him feel comfortable, Wanda in particular paying close attention to the man. Every so often she’d smile to herself amidst one of Wade’s rambling not-so-internal conversations, but whenever Peter questioned her about it she’d merely shrug and say it was nothing.

The final Avenger that Peter met was a mountain of a man named Thor. According to Wade he was an actual, totally-not-joshing-you-I-swear, _god_. Thor lived and spent most of his time away from Earth in a realm known as Asgard, where he ruled as a prince beside his father, Odin. Peter had been blown away at the idea of space and other planets, his eyes wide as he listened, riveted, to Thor’s detailed descriptions of his home. 

While Peter had been awed by Thor, the god didn’t seem the least bit surprised to learn that Peter was a fairy. Instead, he came across as mildly intrigued, as though he’d been reminded of something pleasant that he’d forgotten a long time ago.

“Aye,” Thor had said upon meeting Peter, nodding knowingly while the rest of the team stood around them in silent bewilderment, “it is truly heartening to discover that the  Trädandar still reside on this plain.”

Peter had offered the god a polite, if befuddled, smile in return, the other Avengers following suit. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Tony lean over to Clint and in a loud stage whisper ask, “What on Earth is he talking about?”

Clint hadn’t even blinked at the question. “Fairies, I’d assume.”

All in all, Peter’s interactions with the Avengers had been overwhelmingly pleasant. He was even happy to find that Wade had mellowed out somewhat when it came to his teammates, the man no longer desperate for Peter’s undivided attention whenever they were around. Peter saw this as a huge step forward for Wade, as well as proof that the man had grown more confident in their friendship. 

In a bid to encourage Wade and boost his confidence further, Peter had taken it upon himself to spend more time than ever in the hero’s company. Every meal, day trip, and grocery run was completed together, and all of their free time was spent side-by-side in the apartment. Peter continued his daily application of balm to Wade’s skin, while Wade kept them entertained with movies, television, and his unending obsession with pop culture. 

The hero had even seen to it that Peter’s love of science and engineering could be fostered at home and away from Tony’s lab. After purchasing several trinkets from the pawn shop near their apartment, Wade had made a work space for Peter in the living room using an upside-down cardboard box. And, though he didn’t actually _build_ anything with Peter, the fairy appreciated Wade’s presence all the same. 

In fact, being around Wade brought out a side of Peter that he’d never known existed; a fun, confident, _clever_ side that wasn’t afraid to fire off a quip or make an observation. He and Wade were equally matched when it came to sharp witticisms and dry humor, although Wade had him beat when it came to pop-culture. Even still, Peter kept up with him admirably; firing off his own references from time to time and making Wade proud.

Peter loved every moment he spent with Wade, so the idea that he’d ever leave the man for SHIELD or the Avengers was laughable. Peter felt cherished whenever he was in the other’s presence, and that was something he hadn’t experienced since the death of his aunt and uncle. Peter hadn’t realized just how much he’d missed that sense of belonging and acceptance, but now that he had it back, Peter wouldn’t trade it for the world. 

He was adamant that he belonged with Wade, and that was where he intended to stay.

  
  
  


After they’d spent a total of three weeks gallivanting through the city and laying around Wade’s apartment, SHIELD finally came calling in the form of an agent at the front door. The hero groaned as soon he opened the door to find the well-dressed man, the agent’s clothing a sharp contrast to Wade’s Hello Kitty pajama pants. Peter hovered just behind Wade’s shoulder, his own pajamas rumpled from sleep.

The agent ignored the less-than-warm-welcome he received from Wade, his eyes only momentarily jumping to Peter before returning to the hero. “Your mission, Mr. Wilson,” he stated simply, handing over a manilla envelope before nodding and strutting away without another word.

Wade was too busy pulling out the ream of paper from the envelope and reading over his mission brief to pay the man any mind. He closed the door behind him with a loud _snap,_ tossed the empty envelope into a far corner, then returned to the living room to plop down in his arm chair with the brief in hand.

“What kind of mission is it?” Peter asked as he hovered near Wade’s head, adjusting his glasses to better see the thick stack of papers.

“Looks like another Hydra sweep.”

“Hydra?”

Wade looked up from the papers and watched as Peter landed on the back of the recliner. “Yeah,” he replied belatedly, laying his head next to the fairy and holding up the brief so they could both see it. “They’re the same group that I handled back in England when we first met.”

Peter hummed in affirmation, his mind jumping back to their introduction and the scene of carnage he’d found that day so long ago. Wade had been vague about his mission back then, giving Peter the bare-bones explanation of what it entailed. The fairy had never pushed Wade for the exact details of what happened in that bunker, and quite frankly, he wasn’t sure that he cared to. 

The idea that Wade could have had anything to do with the deaths of those humans turned Peter’s stomach. Such depravity and cruelty didn’t match up to his own personal experiences with the other man, and he honestly wasn’t sure he could even picture such a thing. His first instinct was to trust that his friend would never stoop to such a level of violence; not just because of Wade’s demeanor toward him, but also because of how Peter had seen Wade react around other humans.

In the entirety of their friendship, Peter had never witnessed his friend kill or harm another human being. In fact, from what Peter could tell, the other relied heavily on grandstanding and threats to resolve altercations rather than outright violence. Peter greatly appreciated this, as he hated death and overt violence toward others. His distaste was to be expected considering he’d been raised by his gentle aunt and uncle, both of whom had impressed upon Peter the importance of kindness and altruism.

But, despite his overt bias and desire to exemplify the positives of Wade’s personality, Peter had to admit to himself that the man did have the capacity to be dangerous. Whether it was due to Wade’s various interactions with SHIELD or the way his own teammates tip-toed around him at times, Peter recognized that there was something threatening about Wade hidden just beneath the surface. He wasn’t sure what it was, exactly, but he hoped he never got the opportunity to find out.

“Petey? Pete. Peter. Petey-poo. Peter-Piper-picked-a-peck-of-pickled-peppers!”

“What?” Peter asked, startled back to the here-and-now. 

Wade was grinning at him. “Wow, you were really deep in the rabbit hole, weren’t you?”

“Rabbit hole?” Peter wondered, tilting his head curiously and plopping down on the cushion. 

“Yeah, you know, _Alice in Wonderland_? One of the greatest acid trips to be showcased in a children’s film since _The Wizard of Oz_?”

“Oh. Oh!” Oh yeah, Peter remembered those. He hadn’t quite gotten the gist of either movie, but he did enjoy the portions of _Alice in Wonderland_ where the little human girl was the size of a mouse. They reminded Peter of some of his own adventures in the forest, albeit with less magic potions and talking caterpillars. 

“Sorry,” Peter continued sheepishly, “I was just thinking about what you said. Is this mission in England, too?”

Wade shooked his head. “Naw, this one is in Central America. It’ll suck donkey dicks, too, because the weather’s going to be hot as balls down there this time of year.”

“Really? In September?”

“You bet your cute butt it will be! See, you’re used to English weather, which granted also sucks balls, just in a different way,” Wade explained, pulling out his phone to bring up a map and show Peter where Central America was located. “It’s the tail-end of their rainy season right now, so not only will it be hot as hell but it’ll be raining cats and dogs the whole time I’m there.”

Peter tilted his head curiously. “Cats and dogs?”

“It just means ‘a lot’. There’s going to be a lot of rain.”

Peter hummed his understanding then winced in sympathy, patting Wade’s temple. “Ouch, that stinks. How long do you have to be there?”

“The brief says there’s only one Hydra facility in operation, so I should be able to take it out within 2-3 days depending on their defenses.”

“Are you going alone?”

Wade turned his head to give him a peck on the cheek, the force behind it almost knocking Peter over. “Don’t worry, Baby Boy, I can handle myself just fine. I’ll finish this mission and be back before you have a chance to miss me.”

“I still worry about you,” Peter murmured, holding a hand to his cheek to hide his blush. Despite the past few weeks of shared kisses and soft touches, he couldn’t help but feel shy whenever Wade was physically affectionate. Peter attributed his reticence to his time spent alone in the forest, where his only social experiences were between himself and the woodland creatures near his home. 

To Peter, it was a lot easier to accept a kiss from an affectionate fawn than a human, even if said human was his best friend.

Wade’s tender coo brought Peter back to the conversation. “Oh Petey, you precious cinnamon roll. You’re too pure for this world.”

“Are you making fun of me?”

Wade gasped theatrically and held a scarred hand to his chest. “I would _never_!”

Peter rolled his eyes and stood up, his hands on his hips as he shot Wade his best glare. “I’ll have you know that I’m nothing like a cinnamon roll. If anything I’m more of a s’more - soft and gooey on the inside, but dry wit and sharp corners on the outside.”

“I could really go for a s’more right now.”

“Be serious, Wade!”

“I am being serious! S’mores are delicious!”

Peter sighed and hopped down to stand on Wade’s forearm, pointing to the brief and staring up at his friend purposefully. “I’m worried about your safety! It bothers me that I can’t go on this mission with you.”

“I know,” Wade responded with a fond smile, bringing his free hand up to brush his thumb along Peter’s cheek. “And I appreciate it. But I was serious when I said I don’t want you in danger. Trust me, Pete, I’ll have a much easier time completing this mission if I know you’re safe and sound here in New York.” 

Peter dropped his gaze to stare at the hem of Wade’s pajama pants, his shoulders slumping in surrender. “Okay,” he mumbled, placing a hand on the other’s thumb in a show of quiet support. “I’ll stay here with Ellie and Emily while you handle SHIELD’s mission.”

Wade sighed in relief and sagged back against his chair. “Thank you.”

Peter looked back up at him and gave a reassuring smile as he pressed a kiss into the pad of Wade’s thumb. “You’re welcome.”

That evening, Peter found himself being formally introduced to Emily Preston and her family. Wade had described Emily as a former SHIELD agent who had befriended him many years ago and taken on the role of an adoptive mother to Ellie. Based on this history and the first time Peter had seen Emily, he assumed that the woman would be rather stern. However, he was pleased to find that she had an apparent soft-spot for both children and fairies. 

After getting over the shock of seeing an actual honest-to-goodness fairy in her home, Emily invited Peter into the kitchen and offered him a plate of cookies. As Peter munched on his snack on top of the counter, Wade offered Emily a quick explanation of how he and Peter had met as well as why the fairy was living in the city. Emily nodded along as Wade spoke, and when he finally got around to asking if she could look after Peter for a few days, she agreed without much preamble.

“I don’t see why it would be a problem,” Emily said, turning to call out for the rest of the house’s occupants to join them in the kitchen. Shortly thereafter Ellie appeared, her eyes lighting up as soon as she spotted Peter. Behind her were two male humans, a man and a child, who both looked mildly amused. 

“Peter!” Ellie shouted, running over to him. “You’re back!”

“Hey Wade!” the young boy called, lifting a hand in greeting as he entered the room. “What are you doing here?”

Wade returned the gesture jovially. “I’m here to drop off my buddy Peter while I handle some SHIELD business.”

“Peter?” the boy mumbled, following Ellie into the kitchen and over to the counter. His eyes widened when he finally caught sight of the fairy, his jaw dropping in shock when Peter waved.

“Yo!” Peter called between a mouthful of cookie, crumbs flying out of his mouth as he spoke.

The little boy gasped and rushed forward to put his hands on the countertop, his face moving closer to Peter in awed wonder. “Holy cow!”

“What on Earth?” the older man stuttered behind them, having just spotted Peter himself. He jerked his head to look at Emily pointedly, clearly expecting some type of explanation.

“This is Peter,” Emily started, gesturing to the fairy. “He’s a friend of Wade’s and will be staying with us for a few days while Wade goes out on a mission.” Then, turning toward Peter she said, “Peter, I’d like to introduce you to the rest of my family. This is my husband, Shane, and my son, Jeff.” Emily pointed to each of them in turn before glancing at Ellie, probably with the intent to introduce her, as well. However, she appeared to realize rather quickly that Ellie and Peter were already quite chummy. In fact, the little girl was still standing next to the counter with Jeff by her side, talking a mile a minute to Peter about what she’d been up to since they’d last seen each other.

Peter watched Emily take in the scene as he split his attention between her and the children, confused when he saw the older woman’s eyes slowly narrowing. After a moment of silent contemplation, he saw her turn to Wade with an inquisitive quirk of her brow. 

“Wade,” Emily said slowly, straightening to her full height, “I might just be speculating here, but it seems as though Ellie and Peter have already met.”

Wade glanced over at the pair in question, grinning as he listened to his daughter describe a recent school project of hers that she based around fairies. “Huh, wow you’re right, it kinda does.”

Emily placed her hands on her hips, her lips settled firmly into a scowl. “How and when might that have happened?” she asked bluntly, her husband watching Wade over her shoulder.

Wade tilted his head and his eyes rolled to one side as he made a show of thinking about his answer, his finger pressed to his chin. “Hm, I’m not sure. You know how it is, Emily, what with the Facebook and all. Kids these days are always meeting new and interesting characters.”

Emily clearly wasn’t buying it. Her calculating gaze shot from Wade to focus in on Peter and Ellie. “Ellie,” she called in a sugar-sweet voice, catching the girl’s attention, “when did you and Peter meet?”

“Daddy brought him last time he was here.”

“Oh really?” Emily answered, her tone dropping into something dangerous. She turned the full force of her glare onto Wade, who rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. Shane face palmed in the background. 

“Oh come on,” Wade began, his arms opened wide in a placating gesture, “you’re making this into way too big of a deal. Peter doesn’t mean any harm.”

“I understand that, Wade, but you can’t just bring random strangers into my home without my permission or knowledge,” she snapped back, pointing a finger at him. “Peter is a nice boy so I can see why you wouldn’t understand your error, but it’s my responsibility to keep everyone in this house safe so you have to be upfront with me. You _know_ I don’t like surprises.”

Wade sighed in a put-upon manner. “Okay, fine. I won’t do it again.”

“Good. Now then, Peter,” Emily cooed as she turned to him, her expression becoming much more relaxed, “how would you like a piece of chocolate cake?”

Peter looked between her and Wade carefully as he swallowed his latest mouthful of cookie, trying to gauge the mood of the room. “Uh, alright,” he agreed politely, wiping the crumbs off his hands and climbing to his feet. “Thank you, I’d really enjoy that.”

Several minutes later, Peter sat at the kitchen table with Wade, Ellie, and the Prestons as they all shared Emily’s store-bought cake. Peter was already relatively full from his cookies earlier, but he accepted a small piece anyway, remembering his aunt’s lessons on manners. As he ate, Peter glanced around at the rest of his company and listened to their conversations with a smile tugging at his lips.

It was nice spending time with a family like the Prestons. Being with them felt...good. Normal. They seemed to enjoy one another’s company and welcomed Wade and Peter into the fold without complaint. It reminded Peter of dinners spent with his own family, the memories of his aunt and uncle stirring up a fond warmth in his belly.

_I could get used to this_ , he thought with a grin, taking another bite of his treat.

Together the six of them polished off the remainder of the cake, with Wade devouring three slices alone. Once everyone was through and the plates had been cleared from the table, the hero leaned back in his chair with a loud belch and rolled his mask back down to cover his chin.

“Thanks Emily, it was yummy,” Wade announced, standing with a flourish. He pulled back the sleeve of his suit to check his Dora the Explorer watch, his eyes widening comically under his mask. “Oh jeez, look at the time! Sorry everyone, but I gotta run. Take care of Peter and Ellie for me, okay?” he asked, nodding at Emily and Shane then kissing Peter and Ellie goodbye. 

Wade gave a parting wave before making his way through the house and back to the front door, Peter and the Prestons trailing behind him. As the hero opened the door and stepped out onto the porch, Peter noticed a nondescript black sedan parked at the end of the driveway. He briefly wondered if the car was here for Wade, receiving his answer when the hero walked up to the passenger door and threw it open to slide into the seat.

“Bye, Petey! Bye, Ellie! Be good!” Wade shouted as he leaned halfway out of the car, his arm moving through the air in a wide arc as he waved once again.

“We will!” Peter and Ellie shouted back, the fairy moving to settle himself on Ellie’s shoulder. As he sat down, Peter listened to Ellie say her own goodbyes, the girl sounding far less upset about Wade’s departure than Peter. He could only assume it was because she’d done this before and was used to seeing her father leave on SHIELD business. 

Peter wished he could share in her composure.

He worried his bottom lip between his teeth as he watched Wade settle into his seat and close his door, the car soon pulling away to drive off into the night. Peter’s gaze followed the vehicle until it turned out of sight, then he shifted to glance at Ellie, his eyebrows drawn together in apprehension. 

“Do you think he’ll be okay?” he asked her, his heart beating solidly in his throat.

“Daddy’s always okay,” Ellie assured him, throwing Peter a smile. “Come on, let’s go play in my room!”

“Alright,” Peter murmured uncertainly, his eyes lingering on the empty street. He looked away when Shane closed the front door with a soft _click,_ swallowing thickly as Ellie traipsed to her room with Jeff trailing behind.

_It’s only for a few days_ , Peter reminded himself morosely, but the thought did nothing to push away the concern that had settled in his stomach. He ran his fingers through his hair anxiously as Ellie reached her room, Jeff closing the door behind them.

_Please come home soon_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BUM BUM BUMMMMM! Wade's leaving on his first mission without Peter. I wonder what shenanigans will occur while he's gone?
> 
> Oh, and I hope everyone enjoyed the little tidbits with the rest of the Avengers! I didn't want to linger on them too long since I don't plan on making this an Avengers-centric story. Don't worry, Spideypool lovers - this will always and forever be about Wade and Peter's budding romance. ;)
> 
> Also a side note: Thor mentions the Trädandar when he first meets Peter. I don't know much about Norse mythology so I might just be talking out of my butt here, but from what I understand these could be considered the Norse version of fairies back in the day. I thought it would be fun for Thor to be familiar with fairies and the like, since he himself is a mythological figure in human history.


	13. Suspicions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was really excited while writing this chapter and I hope you like it, too! :D

The Prestons and their newest guest sat together in the living room munching on popcorn and watching a movie. Peter and the children were currently draped on the couch, the fairy lying on the chair’s arm while Ellie and Jeff lay on their stomachs across the cushions. Emily and her husband were sitting opposite one another in their own lounge chairs, their eyes glued to the television. Tonight was an action movie (with a PG-13 rating, to Ellie and Jeff’s discontent) that focused on a superhero whose costume had been altered  _ just _ enough from Captain America’s to sneak by copyright laws. Peter and Ellie giggled at all of the man’s cheesy one-liners, the little fairy trying to envision the real Captain America saying such things during a battle. 

Poor Steve would be appalled.

Peter and the small family had been spending their evenings like this over the past two days, with Shane and the children’s waking hours being occupied by both work and school. Peter stayed home with Emily while everyone else was away, the woman having taken time off from her own job to keep him company. Peter greatly appreciated her presence around the house as it helped keep him from feeling lonely during the long daylight hours. 

Emily had tried many different tactics to keep Peter busy, but his favorites had been cooking and baking. She had focused on teaching Peter how to make simple dishes in the kitchen, her motherly smile bright whenever he struggled to help her mix ingredients. Peter had made sure to keep plenty of notes for recipes that he felt Wade would enjoy, the fairy excited by the prospect of showing Wade what he’d learned.

While these last two days with the Preston’s had offered a nice getaway from Peter’s usual day-to-day life, he still missed Wade horribly. He couldn’t stop thinking about his friend throughout the previous days as well as each night before he fell asleep, his stomach in knots as he worried for the man. Peter had yet to hear from Wade or SHIELD, so he could only assume that the hero was still out on his mission. Peter tried not to let the passage of time bother him since his friend had stated it would take a few days to defeat the Hydra base, but the wait was proving difficult.

Whenever his anxiety had started to get the better of him, Peter would forcefully remind himself that Wade was a professional. He’d completed a similar mission before without incident or injury, therefore it stood to reason that this time shouldn’t be any different. The Preston’s had also attempted to soothe Peter during his bouts of unease, with Shane saying that in these situations no news was good news while Emily and Ellie reassured Peter that Wade ‘couldn’t die.’ Peter had offered them all a weak smile in return, but his heart was never in it.

He honestly did want to accept their words at face value, but it wasn’t an easy task. The idea that Wade was indestructible didn’t sound any less ridiculous than it had the first time Clint had voiced it, yet everyone else seemed to take it as an undeniable fact. Peter couldn’t help but scoff whenever the topic was brought up, his mind dismissing the claim outright. 

He’d believe it when he sees it. Deep down, he hoped he’d never have to. 

The sudden sound of the doorbell ringing throughout the house startled Peter and the family alike, everyone’s attention leaving the screen to focus on the door. Peter hops to his feet and flutters up to the top of the couch, watching as Shane pauses the movie and leaves the room to answer the front door. Ellie and Jeff sit up as well, their heads popping up curiously over the back of the couch while Emily remains quietly in her chair.

The doorbell chimes once more as Shane grabs the handle, the man shouting a quick, “Just a moment!” as he checks the peephole. Appearing satisfied, he swings open the door to reveal two women dressed smartly in suits.

“May I help you?” Shane asks. 

Both women hold up badges while the blonde agent on the left answers immediately. “Yes, Mr. Preston. I’m SHIELD Agent Crews and this is my partner, Agent Vox.” She paused to gesture to the dark-haired woman beside her before continuing. “We’re here to speak to a Mr. Peter concerning his friend, Wade Wilson.”

Peter’s eyes widened at the announcement. He heard Emily hum curiously behind him and turned to see the woman climbing out of her chair. She walked past the couch and into the foyer to join her husband at the front door.

“And may I ask why you need to speak to Peter specifically?” she asked, placing her hands on her hips. “I’m also a friend of Wade Wilson, so perhaps I can answer any questions you have about the man.”

“These aren’t questions, per se,” Agent Crews replied in a patient tone as both she and Agent Vox put away their badges. “This visit is in regards to Mr. Wilson’s current mission.”

“What happened?” Peter cut in, flying over to settle on Shane’s shoulder. “Is Wade okay?”

“Where’s my daddy?” Ellie added as she walked up to the door with Jeff at her side.

“We’d rather not speak about this outside,” Agent Vox piped up, glancing at the dark street behind them pointedly. “May we come in?”

“Of course,” Shane said, ushering his family back so the agents could enter the foyer. He closed the door behind the women and trailed after his wife into the kitchen, the agents and children following suit. Everyone moved to sit at the kitchen table, but Emily paused when she spotted Ellie and Jeff taking their seats.

“Oh no you don’t,” Emily said, shooing them back to their rooms. “This is a grown up conversation. I’ll call for you when we’re finished here.”

Ellie crossed her arms haughtily. “This is so unfair! He’s my dad, so I should be able to hear about his mission!”

“Sorry Ms. Camacho, but this information is confidential,” Agent Crews answered calmly.

The little girl didn’t budge. “Then why does Peter get to listen?”

“Peter has been given the proper clearance by SHIELD.” 

The fairy in question curled in on himself atop Shane’s shoulder as everyone’s focus turned to him, his cheeks red under the scrutiny. 

“Ugh, fine,” Ellie groaned dramatically, dropping her arms to her sides. “I’ll just ask my daddy for the details later.” 

She turned and exited the kitchen without another word, Jeff shuffling along behind her after receiving a glare from his mother. Peter watched them go with a sense of guilt, secretly happy that he was allowed to hear about Wade’s mission. 

He promised himself he’d make this up to Ellie later.

Once they all heard the resounding thud of Ellie and Jeff’s bedroom doors closing, the two SHIELD agents sat up straight in their chairs and got down to business. Agent Crews was the one to start. 

“I understand that we are interrupting your evening so I’ll try to keep this brief. SHIELD lost contact with Mr. Wilson approximately 23 hours into his mission. From what we can tell, the target has yet to be neutralized but there has been complete radio silence from both Mr. Wilson and the enemy forces.”

Peter felt his heart plummet into his stomach at the news. “What does that mean?” he asked in a small whisper, shifting uneasily on Shane’s shoulder. Emily leaned over and squeezed Peter’s hand between her fingers comfortingly, turning to the agents with an air of worry.

“We’re not sure what it means, but SHIELD finds the situation worrisome,” Crews continued, her hands folded in front of her on the table. “While we’ve lost contact with Mr. Wilson during past missions, we’ve managed to reinitiate communication within 5-10 hours. This length of silence is unheard of.”

“So are you saying that SHIELD believes Wade has been compromised?” Emily asked in a serious tone, her grip on Peter’s hand tightening imperceptibly.

Crews gave them a subdued nod. “It’s a possibility, yes.”

Peter leaned forward and placed his free hand on Emily’s fingers. “What are we going to do?”

“SHIELD plans to send in a second agent to infiltrate the target facility. If Mr. Wilson has indeed been compromised, this secondary agent will retrieve him and return him safely to SHIELD custody.”

“What about the Avengers?” Peter wondered aloud, sure that Wade’s friends wouldn’t hesitate to save him.

Agent Crews didn’t even blink at the question. “Unfortunately the Avengers have been dispatched on a separate mission and are unavailable at this time.”

Peter let out a shaky breath. “I see,” he sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. His voice was shaky as he said, “Thank you. You know, for - for telling me all of this.”

“Yes, we appreciate the information,” Emily chimed in, a frown marring her features, “but out of curiosity, is there any particular reason SHIELD sent you here personally? Why couldn’t this information have been shared over the phone?” 

Peter glanced momentarily at Emily for her odd question, his head tilting curiously. He was surprised when both agents chuckled, the brunette, Agent Vox, smiling at Emily as she said, “You’re as perceptive as ever, Agent Preston. To answer your question, we’re here tonight not only to inform both yourselves and Peter about Mr. Wilson’s situation, but also to request that Peter come with us to SHIELD headquarters.”

Emily’s frown deepened and she released Peter’s hand. “What for?”

“For safety purposes,” Agent Crews replied, leaning forward on the table. “SHIELD has reason to believe that the recent attacks by Dr. Doom are somehow connected to Mr. Wilson’s current target. The fact that Mr. Wilson may have been compromised is worrisome, but it can also mean that Dr. Doom and his cohorts will now turn their focus on Mr. Wilson himself. If they dig into his personal information to find any weaknesses, it’s possible that they will discover his connection to both Peter and Ms. Camacho.”

Peter wrung his hands nervously at the news, glancing from the agents to Emily. The older woman smiled at him briefly before she, too, leaned forward on the table with her hands folded.

“So you want to take Peter under SHIELD protection until Wade is found?”

“That’s correct.”

“But what about Ellie?” Peter blurted suddenly, his throat tight. “If we’re both in danger, shouldn’t she come with us?”

Agent Vox shook her head. “While Ms. Camacho is at risk, she is significantly less likely to be found by Doom and his associates than yourself, Peter. Mr. Wilson has made his relationship to you quite obvious and hasn’t hesitated to take you out in public. However, he has kept his daughter a secret for several years and hidden her existence well.” She then looked to Emily before stating, “SHIELD will place agents near your home as an extra precaution, but we believe that if Peter is removed from the premises Ms. Camacho will not be targeted.”

Emily put a hand over her mouth and stared down at the table as though in deep thought. Peter watched her for a moment, his mind racing with all of the new information. He had to admit that their reasoning made sense, although the prospect of going with SHIELD left him feeling uneasy. He remembered how irritable Wade had been in the past when SHIELD interacted with or showed interest in him, but in Peter’s mind, these circumstances were entirely different from anything that had happened since he’d arrived in New York.

After deliberating the various pros and cons of going with SHIELD, Peter decided that he’d do what was best for everyone. “I’ll go,” he said into the heavy silence of the kitchen. When all of the humans turned toward him, Peter looked at the agents, cleared his throat, and elaborated, “If it will keep Ellie safe, I’ll go with you to SHIELD headquarters.”

He felt Shane sigh beneath him and heard Emily shift in her chair. The agents smiled at Peter’s words and seemed to relax slightly as they got up from their seats. “That’s good to hear, Peter. If you don’t mind, we’d like to get you there as soon as possible, so please collect your belongings and meet us at the door.” They both nodded at Peter and the Preston’s as they took their leave, their steps light as the women headed back to the foyer. 

Peter nodded back and stood, shaking the nerves from his limbs before climbing down Shane’s arm to settle on the table. He took deep breaths to calm himself, anxious at the prospect of leaving the Prestons but realizing that it was the right thing to do.

“Are you sure about this, Peter?” Shane asked softly from behind him as he got to his own feet. 

“Yes dear,” Emily added as she, too, stood, “I feel terrible letting you go on your own. I can go with you, if you’d like?”

Peter shook his head and offered her a weak smile. “No, it’s alright. You stay here with Ellie and your family. I’ll be okay with SHIELD.”

Emily and her husband relented grudgingly, offering to help Peter pack up the few belongings he’d brought with him. The fairy accepted gratefully and soon they were hard at work gathering up his clothes and other meager possessions. Once they’d finished Peter said his goodbyes to the family and explained to Ellie and Jeff that he would be staying with SHIELD until Wade returned. Ellie wasn’t happy to lose her sleep-over buddy, but she calmed down when Peter assured her that he’d come back and visit as soon as he could. 

After giving Ellie a firm hug around her neck and accepting a kiss to the cheek from Emily, Peter shouldered his tiny backpack (a gift from Ellie), and fluttered over to the front door where he met the waiting agents. 

“Ready to go, Peter?” Agent Vox asked as she turned the handle and opened the door.

“Yes Ma’am,” he replied in a quiet voice, following the two ladies outside and to the dark sedan parked out front. Peter waved at the Preston’s as they stood on their doorstep, then flew into the front seat of the car when Agent Vox opened the passenger side door. He sat himself atop the armrest between the passenger and driver seats and waited patiently for the agents to settle into their chairs. Once the women had buckled their seat belts, Agent Crews turned the key in the ignition and pulled the vehicle away from the curb. 

The drive to SHIELD headquarters was relatively peaceful, with Peter spending the majority of the time sitting wordlessly between the two ladies. The agents apparently weren’t much for small talk, staying silent throughout the ride as Crews made her way down the busy streets toward midtown Manhattan. Peter watched the lights from the businesses and other cars pass by, the harsh beams casting deep shadows on the agents’ faces. 

They reached their destination in less than an hour, and after parking their vehicle in the underground garage, all three passengers exited the car and made their way toward the elevator. Peter flew above the agents’ heads, his eyes flickering back and forth around the area. Unlike the last time he’d come here with Wade and Coulson, there were multiple SHIELD agents hanging around the garage. Most appeared to just be milling about and talking, which suited Peter just fine as it kept their attention away from him and his guides.

Unfortunately his luck ran out when they reached the elevator, several agents shuffling up beside Crews and Vox just as the doors opened with a loud  _ ding! _ . Everyone piled inside with Peter following in afterword, the air around him stifling as he hovered over the heads of the people below. He noticed several pairs of eyes staring up at him but did his best to ignore them, his own eyes cast forward. It wasn’t the first time he’d been gawked at by humans, but unlike past experiences Wade wasn’t here to chase them off with crude humor. 

Peter sighed softly as he thought of his friend. _Please let Wade be okay_.

After a few stops the elevator car had emptied enough that Peter was comfortable descending closer to Agent Crews. The woman turned her head when she heard the fluttering of his wings and offered him a small smile.

“We’re almost there, Peter.”

True to her word, they exited the elevator at the next stop and Peter followed closely as Crews and Vox led him through the relatively empty hallways. There weren’t many people around at this time of night, but everyone he saw was wearing a business suit similar to all of the other SHIELD agents Peter had met before. Perhaps it was part of the dress code? 

“In here,” Vox directed, pulling Peter from his thoughts as she ushered him through an open door and into a well lit meeting room. It was similar to the one he’d been in during Coulson’s interview, though in this case it wasn’t completely empty.

“Good evening, Peter,” a woman said from the head of the large conference table, her hands resting lightly on the space in front of her. “Please, take a seat wherever you’re comfortable.”

Peter flew cautiously over to the table and landed near the stranger, his head turning to watch Crews and Vox take the seats to either side of the woman. He felt a bit better knowing that the familiar agents were going to stay, but Peter couldn’t help the twinge in his gut at this odd situation. Why was he in another meeting room? Were they going to tell him more about what was going on?

His thoughts were cut short when the stranger sat up straight, her lips upturned into a friendly smile as she spoke. “Before we begin, let me introduce myself. My name is Agent Hill. I’m a commanding officer in SHIELD and have been placed in charge of Wade Wilson’s retrieval. I take it Vox and Crews have filled you in on the situation thus far?”

“Um, yes,” Peter answered in a small voice, stepping closer to the three women. 

“Good,” Agent Hill continued, her fingers tapping the table to bring up the same hologram program that Coulson had all those weeks ago. “As you already know, we’ve lost contact with Mr. Wilson for upwards of 20 hours. This is highly unusual given his past missions and the man’s own unique skills. However, considering we have also not heard from either Dr. Doom or Hydra concerning Wilson’s return, SHIELD wants to treat this situation with the utmost caution and secrecy. That way, if he hasn’t been compromised, we won’t be inadvertently bringing unwanted attention to his presence.”

“Agent Crews mentioned something like that,” Peter acknowledged, gesturing to the woman. “She said that SHIELD was already planning to send in another agent to see if Wade had been captured and to rescue him if need be.”

Commander Hill nodded. “That’s right.” She clicked a few keys on the holographic keyboard and brought up an image of a multi-floored facility on the holoscreen above their heads. She appeared to be in deep thought for a moment as she studied the screen, her gaze eventually travelling to land on Peter. “You see, Peter, SHIELD already has someone in mind for this mission. Granted he’s new to our agency and hasn’t received any formal training, but we believe this person has the capabilities to sneak into the target location and retrieve Wilson without incident.”

Hope burst forth in Peter’s chest at Hill’s words, a smile lighting up his face as he took a step forward. They already had an agent lined up to save Wade! With a sense of growing relief he asked excitedly, “Who is it? Who are you going to send?”

Hill didn’t hesitate. “You, Peter.”

Silence descended on the room as time seemed to freeze, Peter’s heart stopping at the unexpected declaration. He stared at the commander with wide eyes and parted lips, his mind desperately trying to process what she’d said. “Me?” he whispered, his wings drooping behind him. 

Hill nodded. “Yes. You see, I’ve heard a lot about you over these past few weeks, Peter. Tony has told me all about your experiences working with him in his lab and he’s quite impressed with your abilities.”

The abrupt compliment surprised Peter, some of the shock from Hill’s earlier announcement waning as he blushed at her words. “Tony said that?”

The commander grinned at him. “Mmhm. In fact, it’s because of Tony’s glowing recommendation that SHIELD decided you’re the perfect agent to complete this assignment.”

“But I’m not a SHIELD agent, Ma’am,” Peter said, running shaky fingers through his hair. “And I promised Wade that I wouldn’t go on any missions.”

Hill nodded sagely. “I understand that this decision is highly unorthodox and I appreciate your concerns. However, despite a lack of training, you were able to both participate in, and survive, a battle between the Avengers and a swarm of doombots. That, Peter, is truly something special.”

Peter looked down at his feet bashfully and put his arms behind his back. He fluttered his wings and took a few moments to gather himself before clearing his throat and returning his gaze to Commander Hill. “I...I don’t know. The only reason I ended up in that battle was because I followed Wade. I didn’t want him to get hurt…”

“Yes, and that was very brave of you, Peter. Your actions that day were exceptional, and I think even Wade would agree.” The Commander’s brows furrowed as she met Peter’s gaze. “We need that bravery now, Peter.  _ Wade _ needs that bravery.”

“I-” Peter started, curling his fingers in the hem of his shirt. He looked at each agent in turn, noting the question in each of their gazes. What should he do?

“Please, Peter,” Hill pressed, leaning forward. “Please help us bring Wade home.”

Peter swallowed thickly. He felt three pairs of eyes on him as he glanced around the room, his gaze eventually landing on the hologram above their heads. To cope with the sudden awkward silence, Peter shuffled forward and swept his eyes over the building’s image, his mind screaming that this wasn’t a good idea.

“I’m not sure,” he finally said, biting his lip as his eyes remained on the hologram. “I don’t want to break my promise to Wade, but I can’t just stand around while he’s in danger.” He took another moment to think over his options, then crossed his arms in front of his chest, putting on a show of confidence that he didn’t truly feel. “I would like to hear more about the mission before I make a decision. If-if that’s okay?”

“Of course,” Hill said, her fingers tapping at the keyboard once more. She clicked a few keys and the hologram of the building instantly changed to show an image of the interior structure. “First, allow me to share the full details of the original mission so you know what we’re up against.” When Peter gestured for her to continue, Hill proceeded with her explanation, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she spoke. 

“Wade Wilson, a.k.a. Deadpool, was sent into the target facility to investigate rumors of illegal human experimentation. If evidence was found of such activities, Wilson was ordered to seize all research and, if possible, detain the employees for questioning. Once everything was secured and all threats were eliminated, Wilson was to return to a SHIELD safe-house and check in with our agency.”

Peter nodded along, already somewhat familiar with the mission from what Wade had told him. He watched the hologram as it shifted to illustrate blueprints of the Hydra facility, the program notating where SHIELD’s intelligence assumed the laboratories to be held. Peter studied the blueprints closely, trying to map out the facility in his mind as he listened to Commander Hill speak.

“For safety purposes, SHIELD must maintain communication with our operatives at all times unless radio silence is deemed necessary to the mission. In this case, Wilson was ordered to check in with us periodically and give updates on what he’s found. As you’re already aware, we haven’t heard from him in several hours time, which is unusual. So, in light of these circumstances and the delicate nature of this assignment, SHIELD has decided to send in another operative to retrieve Wilson and complete the initial mission if at all possible. That’s where you come in, Peter.”

Hill’s hands paused in her typing as she turned to Peter with a critical eye. He managed to meet her gaze steadily, his hands clenched into fists to hide the quivering of his fingers. Hill threw him a confident smile before directing his attention back to the hologram.

“Your job will be to infiltrate the facility through the ventilation system and find your way to the main laboratories,” she explained, the hologram depicting the path through the building as she spoke. “SHIELD has deemed these the most likely holding areas if Wilson has indeed been captured. If you find him, you are to release him from the holding facility and aid him in escape. However, if Wilson is  _ not _ on the premises, you will be instructed on how to seize any of the available research before retreating to the closest SHIELD safe-house.”

Peter’s brow furrowed at her words. “But if Wade isn’t there, where is he?”

“We’re not sure,” Hill replied in a grim tone, her gaze on the hologram. “This mission is strictly to see if he  _ has _ been captured and, if so, to rescue him and finish what he couldn’t. If we come to find that Wilson isn’t in Hydra custody, then we’ll complete the original assignment and use our resources to continue searching for his whereabouts.”

Peter hummed thoughtfully as he considered the plan. It made sense that SHIELD would want him to finish the original mission on top of rescuing Wade, but the idea of strutting into a dangerous situation made Peter’s stomach do flip-flops. He knew Wade would blow a gasket if he saw Peter anywhere near a Hydra facility, so if he  _ did _ find his friend during this mission they were bound to have a very awkward and emotional conversation. 

Peter wasn’t sure which would be worse: completing this mission without finding Wade, or finding him and getting verbally reamed for showing up in the first place. Either ending left a bad taste in Peter’s mouth, to be perfectly honest. Maybe it would help if he thought up an argument beforehand? If he had his story straight from the very beginning, it might be possible to talk Wade down from a level 10 meltdown to a more acceptable 8. Perhaps even a 7, if he played his cards right. 

Man, it was a good thing Peter had his wide-eyed puppy dog face down to a science. Wade was putty in his hands whenever he pulled  _ that _ particular trump card.

Peter was still staring off into space and thinking up possible arguments when he was jarred from his thoughts by a particular image on the holoscreen. “Wait, what?” he asked, stepping closer to the image. “What’s that?” He pointed up at the hologram - a map of the Hydra facility’s location - and looked to Hill for an explanation.

The commander’s hands paused over the keys as she and the other agents followed Peter’s finger up to the hologram, their faces showing their confusion. 

Agent Vox was the first to speak. “It’s a map of the area where the target building is located,” she said patiently. 

Peter tilted his head and focused back on the map, his frown deepening. “But that isn’t Central America…”  

All three agents stared openly at Peter, their gazes shifting to one another before Agent Crews moved to offer an answer. “The target is stationed in an abandoned shipping facility near Ajax, Ontario in Canada,” she replied carefully, her eyebrows creasing in what Peter assumed was concern. “Why are you interested in Central America?”

Now Peter was really confused. “Wade told me about his mission before he left. He said it was going to be in Central America, and even showed me a map. Why would Wade have gone to Canada if the mission was originally somewhere else?”

The women were quiet for several long seconds, their bodies tense. Hill cleared her throat. “I’m afraid that there were a few last minute changes in this assignment,” she explained in a tight voice. “The brief that Wilson received contained old information based on previous intel, but he was brought up to speed as soon as he arrived at SHIELD.”

“Oh,” Peter mused aloud, feeling slightly more at ease. He supposed it made sense that in an agency as large as SHIELD it was possible for mistakes to happen from time to time. At least they were willing to admit their errors and worked to fix them quickly. In Peter’s eyes, that was a sign of good character.

“Okay,” he said eventually, his mind made up. “I’ll do it.”

Vox and Crews smiled wide at his answer while Commander Hill’s expression was more guarded. She merely nodded at Peter with the vaguest upturn of her lips before turning off the hologram with the click of button. 

“That’s wonderful to hear, Peter. Agents Crews and Vox will show you to a waiting room while we prepare the jet. Departure will be in t-minus 2 hours.”

Peter’s wings perked up behind him as his guides stood and motioned him toward the door. The fairy offered a polite “Good bye” to Commander Hill before flying over to hover above Crews as she and her partner shuffled out of the room. As Peter moved to follow, he turned back one more time to give a parting wave to the commander, surprised to find her still in her seat with her head tilted down and a severe frown on her face. 

The last thing Peter saw before the door clicked shut behind him was Commander Hill’s eerily grim expression as she pulled out her cellphone and began to dial. 


	14. Mission (Not So) Impossible

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I liiiiive!!
> 
> What's up, homies? I'm back with another installment of "How does this relationship even work?," Spideypool edition. Sorry for the long wait, the beginning of this chapter gave me a lot of problems. Then of course the ending practically wrote itself. (Fanfiction, amirite?)
> 
> Anyway, if you haven't already seen it, quick shout out to the wonderful Muse-Creations who drew a picture of [Fairy!Peter!](http://sta.sh/01r0d82unboy) You rock! :D
> 
> Now then, let's get this party started!

Peter followed agents Vox and Crews through the hallways and up another elevator to a waiting area near the top of the building. The new room reminded him of the lobby in Avenger’s tower, though this one was notably smaller and contained less ritzy decor. There were a couple rows of plastic chairs, side tables covered in stacks of magazines, and a bank of computers off to one side. Like the rest of the building it was also relatively empty, with only a few Agents standing around talking into their phones. 

Peter trailed after his guides as they maneuvered their way past an aisle of chairs, the backpack that Ellie had given him feeling heavy on his shoulder. He’d almost forgotten about it with all of the excitement going on, but now that Peter had noticed it again it was beginning to dig into his skin. He winced and shifted the strap into a more comfortable position, his eyes on the two women in front of him. 

They passed several monitors on their way through the room, one in particular catching Peter’s eye. He paused for a moment to study the screen, adjusting his glasses gently. Peter peered at the bright monitors, his eyes roving over the text that scrolled across it at a rapid pace. The information appeared to be flight schedules and travel updates, listing the estimated arrival and departure times of several planes as well as their destinations. 

Peter scanned the text until he located the listing declaring “Ajax, Ontario” as its final destination. He squinted and moved closer in an attempt to better read the tiny digital letters and numbers, his nose scrunching in concentration. He was so focused on the information in front of him that he didn’t notice Agent Crews approaching from the side.

“This way, Peter,” Crews said suddenly, startling him from his inspection. The fairy turned to her with an apologetic smile, nodding as he fluttered past her to join Vox at the end of the row of chairs. Both women quickly settled into their respective seats, their eyes on Peter as he hesitated in front of them, unsure. 

“You can take a seat, Peter,” Vox offered, gesturing toward the empty chair next to her. “The flight should be leaving within the next two hours. If you don’t mind, I’d like to start the mission debrief now so you’re well prepared before take-off.”

“Okay,” Peter answered, only half listening as he dropped his bag onto the chair and glanced around the room at the people milling about. Most didn’t seem to be paying him any mind, which for Peter was a bit of an oddity. Perhaps they’d been told about his visit ahead of time? Either that or they were simply too caught up in their own business to notice his presence. 

“Peter?” Crews called, interrupting his thoughts once more and making Peter jump. 

“Sorry!” he murmured, pushing his glasses up his nose shyly. “I guess I’m...just a little nervous. About this mission.”

“That’s completely understandable,” Crews reassured in a gentle tone, her easy smile helping to settle some of Peter’s nerves. “My first few missions were tough, too. Believe me, it’s easier if you prepare beforehand. That way, you can be ready in case you’re forced to think on your feet.”

Peter nodded mutely in agreement, his voice sticking in his throat. He stayed mostly silent over the next hour and a half as he sat with the two agents, listening to them read from a mission briefing off Vox’s phone. He posed questions from time to time when something sounded strange or confused him, and the women were quick to offer advice and reassurances. The time passed quickly, and before Peter knew it an announcement was ringing out over the sound system, directing him up to the roof. 

Peter gulped as he got to his feet, grabbing his bag and fluttering into the air. His eyes darted around the room as Vox and Crews gathered their things and proceeded to a door at the back of the waiting area. Peter followed without any prompting, his heart beginning to race as they entered a stairwell and climbed several flights of stairs. He could hear a loud roar from above them, the sound familiar but not one Peter could place immediately. He didn’t have to ponder it too long, however, as the moment Crews pushed open the door to the roof they were greeted by the sight of a large jet settled atop the concrete. 

Peter’s lips parted in silent awe as his gaze raked over the machine, the slight wind from the engines ruffling his hair and making it difficult for him to hover in place. His memories of the day he and Wade had flown to New York were suddenly pushed to the forefront of his mind, his chest tightening with nostalgia. Wade...

Movement out of the corner of his eye caught Peter’s attention. He turned his head to find Agent Vox waving at him with an amused grin, her hand dropping once Peter’s gaze fell on her. 

“This is your ride to Ontario!” she shouted over the noise. “Just follow the pilot’s orders and you’ll do fine. We’ll see you when you get back.” Then she stepped aside and directed Peter toward the jet.

Peter moved to follow her directions and continue forward, only to pause when he didn’t hear the agents’ footsteps behind him. He turned back to them, his wings pumping furiously against the wind, and asked, “Aren’t you coming with me?” 

Vox and Crews shook their heads. “Sorry, Peter,” Crews cut in, her expression contrite, “but due to the required stealth of this mission, it’s best that we send as few agents as possible.”

“Oh.” Peter bit his lip.

“Don’t worry,” she continued quickly, her expression soothing, “there are highly trained agents on board who will be accompanying you to the mission site. They’ll guide you through the target building and tell you everything you need to know so you can get in and out safely. You’re in good hands, Peter.”

“O-Okay,” he replied shakily, brushing his hair out of his eyes as he glanced at the jet. He wasn’t too comfortable boarding a plane with a group of strangers, but if it’s what he had to do to help Wade, then Peter would see it through. 

After a jerky wave goodbye, Peter zipped over to the open door at the back of the jet, grateful to find that the gusts of wind from the plane’s engines didn’t reach him back there. His anxiety grew as he ascended the ramp leading up to the plane’s interior, his gaze heavy as he took in his surroundings. He’d only reached the midway point when the flight crew came into view, the sight of the three men in combat gear causing Peter to pause. They hadn’t noticed him yet, their heads down as they stood over a table and perused the contents of several thick folders. Peter approached them slowly, trying to decide the best way to introduce himself without making things awkward. 

After thinking it over for a moment, he figured that being overtly friendly and exuding confidence would ease everyone’s nerves and start them off on a positive note. Peter took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair, his back straightening as he stood tall and tried desperately to appear cool and collected as he called, “Hello!” 

All three agents looked up from their work, their eyes widening noticeably once they spotted him. They watched closely as Peter flew over to them, the fairy landing delicately on the table and dropping his backpack with a _thunk_. A beat of awkward silence passed as the agents shared a glance, the men shifting in place while one cleared his throat loudly. 

Peter tilted his head up and swivelled back and forth to get a look at all of them, a wide smile on his face and his hands on his hips. “Hello!” he repeated, hoping that his voice sounded convincingly perky. “My name is Peter. From what I understand, we’ll be spending the next several hours together, many of which will involve me disappearing into vents like Mario’s lesser known half-brother. I would just like to take this opportunity to say that I appreciate your help and I look forward to working with you!” With that, Peter thrust out his hand and stared up at the man in front of him expectantly. 

The agent blanched, but was quickly saved by one of his partners who stepped closer to Peter and took the fairy’s offered hand gently between his fingertips. “Hello, Peter. It’s nice to meet you,” he started, smiling politely. “My name is Agent Smith. This here is Agent Mills,” he said, tilting his head toward the man Peter had originally spoken to, “and that is Agent Anderson,” he finished, nodding at the agent on the opposite side of the table.

Peter returned the man’s smile with a cheeky grin. “Agents Smith and Anderson, huh? It’s good to see that you’ve both put aside your differences and decided to work together toward the greater good.”

That got a surprised bark of laughter from Mills and a roll of the eyes from Smith. “I see you’ve already caught yourself up on human pop culture,” Smith grumbled, releasing Peter’s hand. “Tell me, have you reached the 2000’s yet or are you still stuck in 1999?”

Peter gasped, affronted. “ _Sir_ , I’ll have you know that not only do my hips not lie, but I gotta feeling that you’d lose yourself if you knew what my milkshake brings to the yard.”

“God, he’s a miniature Deadpool…” Anderson murmured, moving around the table to stand next to his colleagues. 

“I like him,” Mills exclaimed, offering Peter a fistbump that the fairy happily returned. 

Agent Smith shook his head with an exasperated sigh. “Yes, well, now that the pleasantries are out of the way, let’s talk shop, hm?” He snatched up one of the folders laid out on the table and flipped through the pages, stopping at one near the back. He then slid the folder over to Peter and pointed at the picture of a building layout centered on the page. 

“This is our target, Cavel Core Industries. It’s an old mining facility built near the outskirts of the city and, we believe, home to a Hydra research lab.” Smith paused there to glance up at Peter, his gaze sharp. “Did Agents Crews and Vox already debrief you on the mission objectives, Peter?” At the fairy’s nod, Smith gave an approving hum and continued in a serious tone. “Good, then you should already be familiar with what I’m going to tell you.”

His gaze dropped back to the folder. “This image shows us the inner workings of Cavel Core and the main areas we’ll need to search if we’re to locate Deadpool. Your entry point will be here, while your first location objective is here,” Smith said, pointing to each area in turn. Peter nodded along as the agent spoke, his brow creasing as he concentrated on the picture. “Once you’ve entered the air vents, Agent Mills and I will walk you through the facility via this headset.” 

It was then that Smith reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, the agent placing it softly on the table next to Peter. The fairy studied the box curiously before opening it, his eyes lighting up with wonder as a fairy-sized earpiece was revealed amongst the packaging. 

“Where did you get this?” he asked, awestruck, plucking the item out of the box with a reverent touch.

“It was made using Pym Particles,” Smith explained, taking back the box and replacing it in his pocket. 

Peter’s jaw went slack. “Pym? You mean Hank Pym, the scientist? He made this for me?”

Smith seemed taken aback by Peter’s sudden exuberance, watching dumbly as he continued to babble. He allowed Peter to gush for a few moments about Pyms “genius discoveries” before finally speaking up to break the news that no, Hank Pym himself hadn’t specifically designed the earpiece for this mission. At Peter’s answering pout, Smith went on to explain that SHIELD had ordered many different odd pieces of technology over the years, so while this piece was a relatively new request, it was doubtful that Pym Technologies thought anything of it.

Peter visibly drooped at the Agent’s words. “Oh.” 

Mills leaned forward over the table, his expression bright. “It’s still a pretty cool piece of technology, though, don’t you think? And it’s something Ant Man would use! You know Ant Man, right?”

Nodding, Peter glanced up at Mills. “Yes, he’s a friend of mine. He’s an Avenger.”

Mills grinned. “That’s awesome! You know, Peter, I think it’s amazing that you have the opportunity to do some ‘Avenging’ of your own. And once this mission is over, you’ll have proven to everyone that you’re Avengers material. I bet Wade will be very proud of you!”

Peter scuffed his shoe against the table, his eyes dropping bashfully. “I don’t know… Something tells me he’s going to be _really_ angry that I went on a mission by myself. Wade doesn’t want me to get hurt.”

“That’s where we come in,” Mills assured him, gesturing from himself to his partners. “With that communicator, we’ll be with you every step of the way.” He reached out to place a finger on the earpiece in Peter’s hand, his skin warm to the touch. 

Peter tightened his grip on the device and looked up at the agent, a cautious smile on his face. “Thank you,” he murmured, fumbling to put the communicator in his ear. It only took him a couple tries, and when he was finished, Mills gave him a thumbs up. 

“Looking good, Peter,” he said, making the fairy blush.

The remainder of the debrief went as well as one could hope, with Smith walking Peter through the planned path into the facility. Anderson and Mills offered interesting anecdotes throughout the conversation, mostly concerning what Peter could do in certain dire situations. Their expertise and confidence eased Peter’s anxieties somewhat and alleviated his fears that this mission was an impossible feat. 

Peter could do this. He _had_ to do this. For Wade.

Once the debriefing was finished, Peter and the agents strapped in for the short flight to Ontario, the fairy sitting in the back of the plane with Agent Mills. After take-off Peter was allowed to join Smith and Anderson up front, the fairy marvelling at the city lights below. When they’d gained enough altitude that the visibility dropped, Peter took comfort in the bright full moon and the sea of clouds that surrounded them. It was peaceful; the view further settling his nerves and letting him get some much needed rest for the upcoming operation.

They landed about half a mile away from the Cavel Core facility, the woods around the derelict building acting as perfect cover. Before opening the door to the deck, Agent Anderson performed a sound test on Peter’s earpiece while Smith handed him a familiar backpack. With a start, Peter recognized it as the one he’d brought with him from Ellie’s house. He took the bag from Smith and unzipped it, tilting his head in question when he found a thumb drive nestled inside. 

“Where are my things? And what’s this for?” 

“We’ll keep your personal belongings safe while you’re away on the mission,” Smith explained shortly. “As for the thumb drive, it’s something you’ll need to complete Deadpool’s original objective.”

Peter didn’t have a chance to respond, as Anderson immediately jumped in to declare the communications system online and that the mission could start whenever Peter was ready. The fairy tensed at the announcement, his belly doing flips as the agents retrieved jackets from the back of their chairs and moved to take their positions. 

“Oh! One more thing!” Mills exclaimed out of nowhere, zipping up his jacket smoothly. He rushed over to a supply pack hanging on the back of his seat and dug through it, cursing softly until he found what he was looking for. He grasped the item and returned to Peter, holding it up triumphantly. In his hands was a beautiful faux-leather jacket, perfectly sized for someone of Peter’s stature. 

“Here, a gift from my daughter’s doll collection. I made sure to bring it when I was told I’d be working with you.” 

Peter gasped and reached up to pluck the jacket from Mill’s grasp, surprised at how soft it felt to the touch. “This is beautiful!” he cried, flipping it around to look at the other side of the garment. Peter grinned when he realized it had already been modified for fairy-use, the hole in the back the perfect size to accommodate his wings. “Thank you! I really appreciate it!”

“Oh believe me, you will once that cold air hits you. Ontario isn’t fun during the winter.”

Peter blinked stupidly at the comment, only just realizing that Mills had a point. While the air in New York was mostly chilly this time of year, they’d flown hundreds of miles north and into the snow. It was probably _freezing_ outside!

“Thank you!” he repeated, moving quickly to put it on. As soon as Peter was settled, Mills returned to his seat and pressed the release for the jet’s ramp. The door opened with a metallic whir to reveal the dark, snow-filled woods outside. Peter shivered when frigid air blew into the plane, his warm breath clouding in front of his face as his glasses fogged.

“Good luck, Peter! Remember, we’ll be with you the whole time,” Mills called in a low voice. He then settled a large pair of earphones over his head and turned to his computer screen. Anderson and Smith merely nodded at Peter before doing the same, their backs to him as he slung the lightweight backpack over his shoulder and flew out, the door quickly closing with a light _clunk_ behind him.

Peter found it surreal to be back in a forest, the sudden silence jarring after having lived in New York City for the past few months. He hovered in place and rubbed his arms absentmindedly while he tried to get his bearings, the communicator feeling awkward against his ear. 

_ “Peter, how’s it look out there?”_ a voice crackled over the line. Peter recognized it as Mills. 

He pressed the ‘talk’ button on his communicator. “It’s quiet,” he answered in a whisper, his breath visible in the freezing air. “I don’t see or hear anything.”

_ “Good. Be sure to let us know if you run across someone.”_

Peter couldn’t help but disagree with Mill’s assertion. It was _never_ a good sign when the forest fell silent. In Peter’s experience, those were the times when it was best to hide and keep out of sight, as it usually meant that a predator was afoot. Despite it being pitch black outside and the thick blanket of snow covering the forest floor, Peter should have still been able to spot an owl or a fox prowling around. The fact that they were nowhere to be found was an enormous red flag.

Peter swallowed thickly and moved up into the barren trees, his heartbeat loud in his own ears. He stuck close to the snowy limbs and flittered quickly from tree to tree, careful not to stay out in the open for longer than a few seconds at a time. The utter silence around him was deafening, even the few remaining insects quiet in the wake of whatever threat was lurking around these woods. Peter would bet an entire cart of tacos that said threat had something to do with his current target. 

_ This is such a bad idea… _

It was slow going, but eventually Peter made his way through the woods and found himself on the outskirts of the facility. The building was run down, its paint chipping and the roof caved in in multiple places. There was mining machinery scattered about the grounds, all of it in varying levels of disrepair. If Peter didn’t know any better, he’d assume that the building had been abandoned for years. He supposed that’s what made it the perfect place for a villain to set up shop. 

Peter moved in cautiously toward the structure, his gaze raking over the walls until he saw the glint of moonlight off metal near the edge of the roof. He tightened his grip on the strap of his bag and rose up to get a closer look, relieved to find that it was the vent he’d been searching for. Peter grasped the bars that crisscrossed the cover, hissing as the freezing metal touched his skin. He settled his feet on the bottom edge of the frame and leaned forward to slide his arms around one of the bars, the jacket protecting his skin from the cold. 

Peter let his wings relax and took a deep breath as he peered through the vent into the gloom, listening closely for signs of life. When he didn’t see or hear any movement he continued with the plan, shimmying the bag off his shoulder and sliding it through one of the holes in the grating. Peter followed soon after, sliding through the bars without much of a fuss. 

Once he’d made it inside, Peter slung the backpack back on his shoulder and trudged slowly into the air duct, his nose twitching as dust kicked up around his feet. It was cold and dark, the moonlight quickly dropping away the further Peter walked. It wasn’t long until he couldn’t see at all, forcing Peter to run his fingers along the wall to help him navigate.

“I’m inside the facility,” he murmured into his earpiece, wincing as his voice carried in the vent. He’d have to be careful not to make a lot of noise or else he’d blow his cover.

_ “Copy that, Peter,”_ Mills replied. _“Continue on your path until it dead ends, then drop down into the next air duct. Let us know once you’re there.”_

“Okay,” he said, following the directions as he carefully traveled through the darkness. The minutes dragged on as he walked along slowly in the pitch black of the duct, his ears ringing with the loud tapping of his own footsteps. It felt like hours before he reached the specified point, the floor suddenly disappearing out from underneath him. 

The sudden fall caught him by surprise and caused Peter to jerk in momentary panic, his wings flying open to catch himself. He hovered in place, breathing deeply as he held the strap of his backpack in a white-knuckled grasp. _Get a grip man, you have wings!_ he thought harshly, angry at his own reaction.

Peter allowed himself a moment of reprieve before he descended blindly into the new vent, the slight whisper of his wings the only sound within the walls. It was starting to bother Peter that he couldn’t hear any other signs of life in the facility, the fairy saying as much into his earpiece. 

Anderson was the one to respond this time. _“Don’t worry, Hydra’s in there. They’re probably down a few floors in the basement labs. You should start seeing signs of them once you’ve dropped down a bit more.”_

Peter was skeptical but continued into the depths of the building anyway, his feet soon landing on solid metal again. “I reached the next vent,” he whispered, staring into the darkness. “Where do I go from here?”

Mill’s voice again. _“Take the duct to the left and keep going until you reach another drop. Follow that vent down to the next floor, hang a right, and continue down when you can. Hopefully by that point you’ll start to see some activity.”_

Peter muttered an affirmative then placed his hand on the wall and used it as a guide until he reached the indicated drop. From there it was just a matter of following directions until he’d finally gone deep enough into the facility to reach the labs. It was a relief when he began to hear faint voices through the walls, his eyes widening when he spotted light spilling in from a vent up ahead. Peter raced up to it as stealthily as possible, breathing through his nose in an attempt to control his excited panting.

“I’ve found a Hydra lab,” Peter whispered frantically into his communicator, his eyes wide as he peered through the metal bars and into a brightly lit area. He counted six people in the room, all of them wearing lab coats and bent over a keyboard or microscope. They looked like normal scientists he would find in one of Tony’s own labs - not at all what Peter had envisioned when he heard the term “evil corporation.” 

_ “Excellent. Do you see Deadpool?”_ Mills asked. 

Peter scanned the lab, his tone disappointed as he muttered, “No, he’s not here.”

_ “Alright. I suppose it would be too much to ask for us to find him right out of the gate. Keep searching the labs and let us know if you see him. Be careful not to be discovered - our intelligence mentioned that there were a lot of guards last time they did a sweep of this place.” _

Peter’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, cats and dogs, huh?” 

There was a beat of silence over the line before Mills sputtered out a confused, _“What?”_

Peter paused in his study of the lab to turn all of his focus onto the conversation at hand. “Yeah, you know, cats and dogs? It means a lot. You said there were a lot of guards. Have you never heard that expression before?”

_ “I, uh-” _

Peter grinned, proud that he could teach Mills something new. “It’s okay, I hadn’t heard it either until the other day. Wade explained it to me.”

_ “...cool. Thanks for that. Be careful, alright?” _

“Sure thing,” Peter said, continuing on his way. He travelled silently through the ventilation system, stealing glances into each room he passed. Just as SHIELD had predicted the facility was mostly made up of laboratories, though there were several offices peppered around the lower floors. Peter managed to catch a glimpse of a couple guards patrolling the halls, but he found it easy to bypass them without being noticed. 

Peter’s path through the air ducts took him around the entire basement area only to eventually dump him right back where he’d started, the six scientists still hunched over their work dutifully. He watched them from the safety of the vent, his stomach dropping with disappointment. 

“Wade’s not here,” he muttered into the communicator, his eyes glassy with tears. 

Smith’s voice crackled over the line. _“You’re sure?”_ At Peter’s affirmative response he gave a resigned sigh. _“Alright, I’ll send a message to SHIELD HQ and let them know that we were unable to locate Deadpool. In the meantime, I need you to search for an empty computer terminal. Let me know once you’ve found one.”_

Peter swallowed back his tears and wiped his nose before doing as he was told, doubling back the way he’d come and heading for one of the offices he’d previously discovered. When he reached his destination, Peter climbed through the slats of the vent and flew down to land lightly on the desk below. The lights were out in the room but there was just enough pouring in from the hallways through the crack in the door for Peter to see what he was doing. He wandered over the messy surface of the desk and stopped in front of the computer, noting that it wasn’t currently powered on.

“I found a computer. What do you need me to do with it?” he asked, dropping the bag from his shoulder with a _thump_.

_ “Take the thumb drive and plug it into one of the computer’s USB ports,”_ Smith’s voice whispered in his ear. “ _A virus program should auto run as soon as it’s inserted. Wait until the program is completed, then remove the drive and escape the building through the vents. We’ll meet you back at the jet.”_

That sounded easy enough. “Will do.” 

Peter walked over to the edge of the desk and hopped down to the floor in search of the computer tower. Once he’d found it he pressed the power switch and flew back up to watch the monitor spring to life with a mechanical _ping_. Peter wasn’t surprised when the first screen to pop up was password protected. What _did_ surprise him was that when he asked for advice over the communicator he was met with silence.

“Hello? Guys? What do I do about the password?” 

Still nothing. 

Now starting to worry, Peter hurried to finish his objective as quickly as possible so he could return to the jet and check on the agents. With no password and no assistance, he figured he’d just have to try plugging in the thumb drive and see what happens. Heck, for all Peter knew, SHIELD had planned for this to happen and designed the program to work around the need for a password. 

“Here we go…” he whispered, inserting the drive into a free USB port and standing back to stare at the monitor. The image distorted for a second before it changed to a bright blue screen filled with white text. Peter watched, fascinated, as a new window opened and information began flying across the glass, a thick black bar at the top counting down the time until whatever was happening was complete. 

Peter pumped his fist in the air triumphantly. Heck yes! He was the best secret agent, ever! He took a second to complete his victory celebration, then glanced around the room and listened for the sounds of incoming guards. When he heard nothing, Peter figured the coast was clear and plopped down on the desk to keep an eye on the program’s progress bar. 

As he waited, Peter continued to try and check in with the agents, but each attempt was met with complete radio silence. It was worrisome, but there wasn’t a whole lot he could do about it at the moment.

_ I can’t leave now or else this mission will be a total bust,_ he thought, chewing his nails absently. Another minute went by before Peter tried the earpiece again, only to be met with more dead air. Dread bloomed in his gut. 

_ I’m sure they’re alright,_ he thought in a desperate attempt to reassure himself. _They’re trained professionals, they can take care of themselves. Perhaps the weather is affecting the communication system?_

That explanation was as good as any. It was certainly better than some of the alternatives, the majority of which turned Peter’s stomach. 

He remained where he was for a few minutes longer, staring at the progress bar with growing trepidation. When it finally reached 100%, Peter jumped to his feet and flew down to retrieve the thumb drive and turn the computer off. He had just begun stuffing the drive back into his bag when a faint noise from out in the hallway reached his ears. Pausing mid motion, Peter tilted his head toward the sound and listened hard. Horror gripped his chest when he realized it was muffled screaming, the noise filtering in through the closed door. 

Fear lanced up his spine as Peter shot to his feet, his hand snatching up his backpack and his wings spreading as he took to the air and raced back to the vent. He’d barely managed to get his bag through the bars when the door to the office burst open, revealing a large, muscular human standing in the doorway. Peter panicked and scrambled to climb into the vent, his heart leaping into his throat as he heard the human’s heavy footsteps stomping around beneath him. 

“PETER!” the figure suddenly shouted, its deep voice reverberating throughout the room. 

Peter froze midway through the bars, blinking stupidly as he processed what he’d just heard. Turning slowly, he ducked his head back into the room and glanced down at the human below, the familiar sight of red spandex and black leather shocking him to his core.

_ “Wade?”_


	15. Fucking Ajax!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMFG I'm SO SORRY that this took so long to post! I became obsessed with the new Zelda: Breath of the Wild game and honestly didn't get anything done for about 5 straight weeks. 
> 
> Please accept this extra long chapter as an apology, and I hope you enjoy. :3

“Wade, you’re here!” Peter shouted, abandoning his backpack inside the vent to rush down to greet his friend.

Wade looked up at Peter’s words and immediately dropped his swords with a clatter. “Peter!” the hero cried again, throwing up his arms and snatching the fairy from midair. His gloves felt warm and wet against Peter’s skin, but the fairy didn’t have a chance to question it before Wade was peppering his face and head with kisses.

Peter giggled as the material of Wade’s mask brushed his face. He dropped kisses of his own on the other’s covered lips and chin, wrapping his arms around his friend’s jaw and holding on tight. His chest felt like it would burst with happiness at the sight of Wade, Peter’s relief at finding him safe and sound almost overwhelming. 

Tears built up behind his eyes as Peter pulled back, his hands running over the ridges of Wade’s mask before he gazed into the bright white eyes. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” Peter said, his voice wobbly. He felt Wade’s fingers twitch around him at the declaration, the hero’s expression unreadable. 

“Me?” Wade started, his voice breaking. “You’re glad _I’m_ okay? Peter, you could have been killed!” he cried, visibly distressed.

Peter leaned forward to hug Wade’s chin, his eyes squeezing shut. “I know! And I know that I promised you that I wouldn’t go on a SHIELD mission, but I couldn’t just wait around while you were in danger!” he explained, a tear escaping down his cheek. Peter pressed his face to Wade’s jaw as more began to fall. “I came here with SHIELD to save you,” he finished lamely, his voice thick with emotion.

Wade’s grip tightened around Peter. “Save me?” he growled, sounding incredulous. 

Peter nodded, lifting his head to look at Wade with watery eyes. “Yeah, from Hydra. They were holding you captive here, right?” 

Wade jerked away, his expression grim as he stared down at the fairy. “Peter, I told you I was going to Central America,” he started, his tone deep and furious. “I haven’t been to Ontario in months, and I sure as hell wasn’t captured by Hydra!”

Peter blinked up at him in confusion and a growing sense of dread, his hands resting lightly on the hero’s fingers. “But...but SHIELD said that you’d been sent here on a mission. They said that they’d lost contact with you - that you might have been compromised and that I could be in danger because of it. SHIELD was trying to keep me safe!”

“Safe?” Wade shouted, startling Peter. “How is sending you into enemy territory keeping you _safe_?”

“I agreed to come!” Peter shouted back, his heart in his throat. “I wanted to help you, Wade!” He took a shuddering breath after his outburst, swallowing thickly as he removed his glasses and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “You would have done the same for me,” Peter whispered with a sniffle, glancing up at his friend as he settled the glasses back on his nose.

Wade looked beyond frustrated as he began pacing back and forth, still holding Peter close. “That’s the thing, Peter, I didn’t _need_ help!” he snarled, his eyes narrowed.

Peter gripped Wade’s gloves tightly as his friend stomped from one side of the room to the other. “Then why couldn’t anyone reach you?” he asked. “SHIELD only came to me after they’d been out of contact with you for over a day. They were worried because the mission-”

“The mission ended almost 10 hours ago!” the hero yelled, coming to an abrupt stop in the middle of the office. “Peter,” Wade continued in a softer tone, lifting the fairy so their gazes were level, “I flew to Central America as planned. I took care of the Hydra facility within 36 hours and I’ve been handling clean up duty ever since.” Wade stared into Peter’s eyes as he spoke, a heavy frown marring his features. “I _never_ lost contact with SHIELD and I was never brought out here to Bumfuck Nowhere, Ontario!”

Peter’s heart plummeted into his stomach. “W-what? Then...then SHIELD…?”

“They lied to you, Baby Boy.”

Peter shook his head sharply in response. “No!” he cried out, glaring up at Wade. The idea was ludicrous. Why would SHIELD lie about such a thing? It didn’t make any sense! “SHIELD wouldn’t do that - they wouldn’t lie about something so important!”

Wade rolled his eyes so hard it was obvious even through his mask. “Of course they would, Petey, they’re an agency of spies! Their entire job is to lie!”

“But why?” Peter repeated, desperate for an explanation. “I don’t understand what they have to gain from sending me here. From...from _lying_ to me about you being in danger. What’s the point?”

It was Wade’s turn to shake his head. “I’m not sure,” he started, raising his gaze to the open door of the office. “But I know a few people who might be able to explain it. To _both_ of us,” he finished, the tone of his voice making Peter shiver. 

The fairy squeezed Wade’s fingers beneath his hands nervously, only just now noticing that the gloves were oddly slick. He looked down and squinted his eyes, trying to get a better view of the hero’s hands in the low light filtering in from the hallway. Through the gloom Peter was able to discern a sheen of liquid covering large parts of Wade’s gloves as well as the rest of his costume, though the color was hard to distinguish from the other dirt and debris Wade had picked up on his way through the facility. 

Peter ran his fingertips through the thick substance before bringing his hand close to his face to inspect them. At first he thought that the color from Wade’s suit was running, the smear of red bright against Peter’s pale digits. But upon closer inspection, he came to the horrifying realization that his friend was covered in _blood_.

“Wade, you’re hurt!” Peter shouted in a panic, gripping the hero’s hand as he leaned closer to scan the man’s body for wounds. With this much blood, Peter was shocked he hadn’t noticed them immediately. How was Wade even walking around?!

Peter’s outburst caught Wade by surprise, the man’s head swivelling to stare down at him in confusion. “Huh? What are you talking about?”

“You’re covered in blood!”

Wade blinked and took a moment to study himself before looking back at Peter. “Oh this? Don’t worry, Baby Boy, it’s nothing.”

Peter was taken aback. “Nothing!? Bleeding isn’t _nothing_! We have to get you help!”

The hero moved to swipe the pad of his gloved thumb over Peter’s cheek, shushing him softly. “Hey, hey, it’s alright. I really am fine. Don’t worry about me, I can take care of myself.”

“But-!”

“None of this is mine.”

Peter jerked back at Wade’s statement, startled. “W-what?” he croaked, staring up at his friend owlishly.

Wade shrugged, shifting Peter into a one-handed grip so he could make a show of trying to swipe the blood from his suit with his free hand. “Yeah, this is from earlier. I...kinda sorta got into it with a few of the Hydra guards.”

Peter slid his gaze over his friend once again, feeling sick from the implication in his words. “Did they attack you?”

“Some of them,” Wade admitted, running his hand over his head with a sigh. “Ya see, Hydra doesn’t appreciate it when people burst into their secret hideouts unannounced.” Here he gave the fairy a pointed look. “That’s why I ran my ass here the moment I found out about your SHIELD mission. I wanted to make sure I got to you before Hydra did.”

Peter tilted his head curiously. “How did you find out I was here, anyway? Did SHIELD tell you?”

Wade rolled his eyes again. “Pffft, those fuckers wouldn’t have just _told_ me where they’d sent you. That’s not the SHIELD way. No, I didn’t realize something was up until I’d given Emily a call to see how things were going. She let me know that you’d been taken to SHIELD headquarters so they could ‘watch over you’,” he explained, placing air quotes around the last few words. “After that I contacted Coulson and politely requested to speak to you. He tried to play dumb and said he didn’t know where you were, but eventually I convinced him to look into it. That’s when I found out about your mission.”

Wade paused and let out an angry snort, his eyes narrowed as he glared at the empty air. Peter watched him silently, the wet feeling of blood under his hands all but forgotten. 

“I was...not happy, to say the least,” Wade murmured darkly, running his fingers over the grip of his holstered handgun. “Coulson and I had words, and I may have broken my phone during our conversation.”

“And that’s when you traveled here?” Peter asked.

“Pretty much. I had to make a stop at Avenger’s Tower first, though.”

“Why?”

Wade poked him in the temple. “I needed Tony’s big nerd brain to help me find you.”

Peter’s lips turned down into a confused frown. “Tony? I thought he was on a mission?”

“Naw, he’s in New York handling some business for Stark Industries. Something about a clean energy program starting up in Hong Kong?” The hero shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. “I dunno, I wasn’t really paying attention when he explained it. Boardroom discussions make my skin itch.”

“But…” Peter started, his brows furrowed, “But SHIELD said Tony and the others were out on a mission. That was why I had to come here myself.”

“Surprise, surprise, SHIELD lied again,” Wade said with another snort.

Peter’s gaze dropped to a random point on the other’s chest, his eyes growing misty with emotion. SHIELD had lied about everything, it seemed. And what’s worse, he’d fallen for it - no questions asked. Peter felt like a fool. 

“I’m so stupid…” he murmured with a small sob, fresh tears beginning to fall down his cheeks. He heard Wade sputter above him, the hero bringing Peter close to his face.

“Whoa, hey, hey!” Wade soothed, bringing his other hand back around Peter and tucking the fairy under his chin. “You’re _not_ stupid! Shit Petey, you’re one of the smartest people I know!”

“I _am_ stupid! I believed them! Everyone at SHIELD - I trusted their word without a thought!” he wailed, barely able to take in a hitched breath between his sobs. “You warned me that SHIELD was trouble but I didn’t listen!” Peter continued, hiding his face against Wade’s neck. “I’m so sorry!”

Wade brushed a finger over the top of Peter’s head, shushing him gently. “You got nothing to be sorry for. SHIELD hadn’t given you a reason to distrust them yet, so it only makes sense that you wouldn’t be on your guard for bullshit.”

Peter dug his fingers into Wade’s suit. “But you warned me!” he repeated with a sniffle, nuzzling deeper into the other’s hold. “You made me promise not to go out on a mission because you knew something like this might happen, right?”

Wade’s hesitant silence was answer enough. 

“I didn’t listen,” Peter repeated, his tone utterly devastated. “I ignored your concerns and broke my promise. I’m _so sorry_!” 

“Shh, I’m not mad at you, Baby Boy, I’m mad at SHIELD. They said what they had to in order to get what they wanted. I don’t blame you at all,” Wade reassured as he hugged Peter close. “Don’t worry yourself over it. This all ends now.”

Peter lifted his head and wiped the tears from his face absently. He looked up at Wade (or what he could see of him from his vantage point under the man’s jaw) and tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. “What do you mean?” he asked thickly. 

“I mean that it’s time we blow this popsicle stand, get our answers, and get your cute little booty back to New York.”

Peter rested his cheek on the hero’s grime-covered neck, exhausted from crying. “What’s a popsicle stand have to do with anything?” he asked weakly.

“It’s just a PG way of saying, ‘Let’s get the fuck out of here,’” Wade explained. “You know how it is being a hero, Petey - can’t cuss in front of the children.” He then stepped to the side to snatch his swords from the floor, forced to sheath them one-by-one so he didn’t have to release Peter from his grip. 

Peter didn’t mind one bit. 

As soon as Wade had re-situated his weapons he turned to leave the office, but jerked to a stop when Peter suddenly called out, “Wait!”

Wade held Peter up to his face, the white eyes of his mask bright in the hallway light. “What’s wrong?”

“I left my bag in the air vent,” Peter explained, wiping his nose idly. When the only response from Wade was a long stare, Peter shifted in his hand and pointed up toward the vent he’d been hiding in earlier. “Up there.”

Wade tilted his head to look in the indicated direction. “Why did you bring a bag?” he asked in a curious tone, walking over to stand beneath the vent. He raised Peter closer to the grate before opening his hand, the fairy balancing on his palm for a moment while he got his bearings. 

Peter rolled his shoulders and stretched his wings out wide, flinching as the muscles in his back twitched. He felt stiff and sore from the cold, his body starting to shiver now that he didn’t have Wade’s warmth surrounding him. “I had packed some of my belongings to bring with me to SHIELD headquarters,” Peter responded, jumping off Wade’s palm and flying up to the vent to collect his things. “I still had them when we boarded the plane,” he continued once he was inside, raising his voice so Wade could hear him. “After we arrived, one of the agents switched my stuff out for a thumb drive so I could complete the mission.” 

“And what was the mission, exactly?”

“I’m not entirely sure, but it involved uploading some kind of program to Hydra’s system,” he called out, his voice echoing off the metal walls of the duct. Peter searched the gloom around him until he spotted his bag just inside the entrance. He snatched it up and threw one of the straps over his shoulder before shimmying back through the metal bars of the vent. He freed himself after a short struggle and a few choice curses, returning to his friend and giving him a lopsided grin as he landed on Wade’s offered hand. 

“I see,” Wade murmured, using his ‘detective’ voice. “So you still have the thumb drive in that pack?”

Peter hummed an affirmative, and Wade didn’t say anything more on the subject. Instead, he moved to settle Peter on his shoulder, the fairy grasping onto Wade’s thumb for balance until his feet were firmly planted. He chuckled when Wade ran a finger over his hair affectionately, the action knocking his glasses askew. Peter smacked the digit away with an affronted “Hey!” as he reset his glasses on his nose. 

They left the office soon after, the pair traipsing back through the eery silence of the connecting hallway. Peter only had a moment to study the area before a gloved hand ushered him over to stand against Wade’s neck, the soft touch urging him to tuck his face into the warm material of the man’s mask. 

“Wha-?”

“Probably a good idea not to look,” Wade stated simply, turning down another hall. Peter’s protest died on his tongue, his mind racing with the implication behind those words. He swallowed down his sudden nausea and nodded faintly, relaxing into the hold and closing his eyes for good measure. If Wade didn’t want him to look, then he wouldn’t fight him on the matter. And considering how much blood was on the man’s suit, it probably _was_ best that Peter remain ignorant of what Wade had been forced to do as he carved a path through the facility. 

The fairy winced at the idea of what must have taken place, knowing that it had to have been difficult for Wade. As a hero, Wade had sworn to protect people, not harm them. The knowledge that Peter’s own foolishness had driven his friend to take such drastic measures left him with a pit in his stomach.

_I’m so sorry,_ Peter thought, biting his lip to keep it from quivering. 

The man in question cursed as he tripped over something in their path, the object giving off a wet _squish_ under Wade’s boots. “Fucking Hydra,” the hero grunted irritably. “Fucking SHIELD. Why’d they have to target this facility? There’s shit-all here.” Wade continued to mumble under his breath as they walked, the words “Yellow” and “White” letting Peter know that the hero was deep in a one(or was it three?)-sided conversation. 

“Fucking Ajax,” Wade suddenly growled as they turned another corner, a blast of freezing cold air sweeping over them. “Seriously, fuck every last one of them!  The soap, the man, and the town! All of them suck!” he snarled, releasing an irritated huff through his mask. “We are never coming here again. I’d rather spend a week in Toronto than another _minute_ in this god-forsaken hell hole!”

Peter listened to Wade’s rant absently, shivering beneath the hand still cupping him to the other’s neck. He could hear Wade’s boots crunching through snow, the metallic echo of the facility’s walls growing more distant with each step. Peter burrowed deeper into his friend’s hold in search of warmth, opening his eyes a moment later to peek through Wade’s fingers and take in their surroundings. 

He blinked blearily as his eyes adjusted to the low light and the rush of the wintery breeze, the forest around them just as quiet as when he’d first arrived. Peter shifted in Wade’s hold and tried to move his wings, but cringed when he realized that they’d become taut and brittle due to the cold. Peter knew that if he didn’t warm them up soon, they were at risk of suffering permanent damage. 

“Wade,” he called out quietly, his teeth chattering. “My wings…”

The hero came to an abrupt stop, his feet silent as they settled in the thick snow. He tilted his head toward Peter with a concerned hum. “Hm? What’s wrong? What about them?”

“The cold - it’s starting to affect my wings.”

Wade frowned at Peter’s words, curling his hand tighter around the fairy. “Don’t worry, Baby Boy, we’re almost there. You’ll be warm in a minute,” he promised, hurrying onward into the forest. 

Peter snuggled closer. “Where are we going?” 

“I figure it’s about time we pay those SHIELD assholes a visit, eh?” Wade answered, grinning darkly.

“Who-?” Peter started before realization struck him. “Wait, you mean Agent Smith and the others?”

“Agent Smith? Is that the bastard’s name?” Wade said haughtily, a twig snapping under his feet. “Figures.”

“Please don’t hurt them,” Peter pleaded, suddenly terrified on the agents’ behalf. “They were really nice to me.”

Wade shook his head. “They’re just as much a part of this bullshit mission as SHIELD headquarters.”

That gave Peter pause. “Do you think they knew it was a lie, too?” he asked in a small voice, not sure if he wanted to know the answer.  

Wade hesitated at Peter’s dejected tone. “I’m not sure, Pete,” he said finally, as though he was choosing his words carefully. “It’s a possibility, though.”

Peter was quiet the rest of the journey through the forest, his eyes burning with the cold and his unshed tears. He’d trusted SHIELD, put his life on the line for them, and listened as they praised him for his bravery and skill. And all the while they’d been plotting something like this; building him up to be the perfect subject for their experimental mission. 

Was any part of this operation based in truth? Wade seemed to believe that the people in the facility had indeed been Hydra, but that didn’t prove that anything else SHIELD had said was true. What information had Peter stolen from their database? Had it been worth risking his life to procure?

His musings were cut short as they arrived at their destination. Wade’s boots clanged obnoxiously on his way up the ramp of the jet, and Peter couldn’t help but wonder how long it’d been lowered. Considering the light buildup of snow in the entrance to the cabin, he had to assume that it had been at least an hour or two. Even in such a short amount of time, the interior was far colder than it had been upon their initial arrival.

Peter lifted his head and turned to peek through Wade’s fingers to catch a glimpse of what lay beyond the entrance to the aircraft. To Peter’s relief he found the three SHIELD agents alive and well, standing on the opposite end of the cabin. Their faces were far paler than he remembered, though. The control panel behind them looked a bit worse for wear, too, with large divots now carved into its surface. The speaker system seemed to have been completely destroyed, while the surveillance equipment’s wires were hanging loosely from their mounts.

Peter briefly wondered what had caused the damage, deciding that he’d ask about it later before switching his focus back to the agents. He glanced between the three of them, noting that they were huddled together with their gazes locked on Wade and their hands raised in defensive positions. Peter found this odd, but after throwing a quick look at the hero and catching a glimpse of his murderous expression, the fairy figured that the agents’ caution was warranted. 

“Hello again, fuck sticks,” Wade greeted, his jovial tone a sharp contrast to his dark demeanor. “Sorry to keep you waiting, but I had to make sure everyone was present before we got started.”

“What do you want, Deadpool?” Agent Smith growled, a bead of sweat dripping down his temple despite the chill in the air. “We already told you what you wanted to know.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” the hero replied easily, flicking a hand in the air with feigned disinterest. “And now that Petey is safe and sound, we can move on to the real nitty gritty shit, such as why the hell you brought my Baby Boy here in the first place.”

Agent Smith’s lips were set in a thin line, his brows drawn into a tight frown. Agents Anderson and Mills shared similar glares, though the latter seemed far more confused than the others. 

“We were sent here under suspicion that Hydra had taken you captive and were holding you in this facility,” Smith eventually responded, his narrowed gaze locked on Wade. 

The hero nodded along to his words, his eery smile visible through his mask. “Mmhm, and now that we both recognize that was utter bullshit, care to feed me another line? Maybe you can throw in a bit of horseshit for flavor.”

“Can I cut in for a second?” Agent Mills pleaded, his hands held out placatingly. His comrades each shot him a panicked look before returning their gazes to Wade. “Look, Mr. Wilson,” Mills persisted, shifting uncomfortably, “like Agent Smith said, we really don’t know anything about the mission beyond what we were told by Headquarters.”

Wade’s free arm dropped to his side and the three men tensed at the action. “See, that’s where we disagree,” he said, placing a hand on his gun. “I think that you all know more than you’re letting on. Frankly, I find it hard to believe that none of you were told ahead of time that the whole ‘rescue Deadpool’ side-story was a farce.” 

Agent Anderson spoke up this time. “And I’m telling you that we didn’t-” 

Wade drew his gun with lightning speed and released a single shot, the bullet flying past Anderson’s head to punch a hole through the cockpit glass behind him. 

“WADE!” Peter shouted, aghast. 

His friend didn’t respond, merely leveling the smoking barrel of his weapon on Anderson’s stark-white face in silent fury. The agent flinched to the side, his mouth snapping closed and his throat bobbing as he swallowed. “Don’t lie to me again,” Wade snarled, his glove creaking as he tightened his grip on the gun. 

“Don’t hurt him!” Peter begged, struggling in the hero’s grasp. He had to stop Wade from doing something he’d regret!

Wade ignored Peter’s plea, his fingers tightening around the fairy to keep him firmly in place. “I’m going to ask you one more time,” he directed at the agent, his tone dangerous, “and if I don’t like your answer, you won’t care for mine.” 

The muscle in Anderson’s jaw twitched as he stared down the barrel of Wade’s gun, sweat pouring down his face in rivulets. Mills and Smith appeared equally as nervous, both men shifting restlessly. 

After several tense moments, it was Smith who finally straightened and matched Wade’s glare. “We weren’t told much beyond the mission debrief,” he began, his face a mask of forced calm. “I was made aware of your actual whereabouts, though the reason for the secrecy and deceit was not explained. Anderson and Mills were not privy to this information.” 

Peter felt like he’d been punched in the chest. He stopped fighting Wade’s grasp and instead turned to look at Smith, his eyes wide. “You knew…?” he whispered, horrified that Wade’s suspicions had been correct. 

Agent Smith’s gaze darted to Peter momentarily, but he didn’t give any other indication that he’d heard the fairy speak. Mills was staring openly at his superior, his expression unreadable, while Anderson’s eyes remained on Wade’s weapon. A heavy silence fell over the room as everyone waited for Wade’s reaction, the hero still poised to shoot. 

Peter knew he should tell his friend to lower his weapon, but he was still shell-shocked by the revelation that Wade had been completely and utterly _right_. SHIELD had set him up. And while Agent Smith had known, he’d chosen to play along with the story, letting Peter risk his life to save someone who had never needed saving. 

The more Peter thought about SHIELD’s deception the more despondent he became, slumping against Wade as fat tears rolled down his cheeks. He felt ill. Angry. _Betrayed_. He wasn’t sure he could ever look anyone at SHIELD in the eye again without either immediately bursting into tears or running away in shame. 

Wade’s thumb rubbed against Peter’s head soothingly, his gun arm unfaltering. “And what was your mission?” he pressed, voice rough.

“To destroy this facility’s research database.”

“That couldn’t have been all,” Wade growled. “SHIELD wouldn’t just destroy that shit outright. I’m sure there’s all types of fucked up information in Hydra’s proverbial closet that SHIELD would love to get their grubby hands on.” Here he took a step forward, the men flinching as Wade came closer. “You’re holding back, Agent.”

Smith straightened. “What? No, I-”

“Then what’s in the bag?” Wade interrupted, narrowing his eyes. 

All three agents shared a brief look of confusion before Smith spoke again. “Bag?”

“Petey,” Wade barked suddenly, jolting Peter out of his morose thoughts. “Give me your pack.”

Peter scrambled to obey, slipping his bag off his shoulder and pressing it into Wade’s palm. The hero pulled his hand away and held the small item up in front of him by its straps. “Yeah, asshats,” he said, giving it a shake for emphasis, “what’s in the bag?”

The agents were silent at his question, their expressions ranging from anxious to resigned. The seconds seemed to stretch on into minutes until Wade finally broke the building tension with a good-natured chuckle. 

“Hah! I’m just joshing ya,” he said, throwing the bag into the air and catching it lazily. The others’ postures eased somewhat at Wade’s apparent shift in mood, only to stiffen again when he stated, “I already know what’s in it.”

“You do?” Smith responded in a clipped tone, gaze remaining on Wade’s gun.

“Yep, but let’s make sure the readers were paying attention, shall we? Peter, will you do the honors?” the hero asked, handing the bag back to Peter. 

Bewildered, Peter did as requested, unfastening the top flap and removing the thumb drive carefully before shrugging the bag back onto his shoulder. He lifted up the drive so Wade could pluck it from his hands, then watched as his friend held it triumphantly between his fingertips. 

“Ta-da!” Wade shouted. “Got your mcguffin!”

Smith’s eyes widened visibly as he stared at the device in Wade’s grasp, his lips parting as what Peter could only describe as true panic settled over his face. “Wait, what are you-?”

Wade didn’t let him finish. “This was the whole reason you came here, wasn’t it?” he asked, jiggling the thumb drive playfully. “I’m sure SHIELD finagled it so that once Petey plugged this baby into a facility computer it would steal the information from Hydra’s system and leave nothing but a puddle of Nazi tears and failure, right?”

None of the agents spoke, but their stony expressions told Peter that Wade had hit the mark.

“Damn I’m good,” Wade said with a grin, holding the drive steadily between his fingertips. “Let’s try to go two for two. I bet that your SHIELD overlords wouldn’t be too happy if you were to, say, _lose_ all of the data on this drive in a freak boot-related accident, right?”

Smith and Anderson’s faces blanched, while Mills sputtered unintelligibly. 

“No, wait-!” Anderson shouted, taking a step forward despite still facing down the barrel of Wade’s gun. 

“Oooo,” Wade cut him off, a manic grin on his face, “looks like I’m on _fire_ today! Better hit up a casino on the way home - Daddy could use a new pair of slippers.”

“Mr. Wilson, you don’t understand! That information is vital if we’re to understand Hydra’s ties to other villainous factions!”

“Then I guess I’ll help you out by making sure it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands,” Wade said before dropping the thumb drive to the floor and crushing it under the heel of his boot.

“NO!” Smith screamed, jerking forward, only to fall back on his ass when another shot rang out. 

Wade leveled the gun on Smith. “Hey, hey! Calm down, Hugo Weaving, I just did you a favor! You were supposed to destroy Hydra’s research, right? Well, mission fucking accomplished!” he giggled, throwing his arm out to the side gleefully.

While Smith glared at Wade with hate in his eyes, Anderson and Mills stared down at the destroyed thumb drive in horror. Peter, too, couldn’t help but gawk at the plastic remains, shocked at what Wade had done. All of the information they’d come here to retrieve - gone! Sure, SHIELD had deceived Peter in order to get it, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t worth saving!

Peter decided that this interrogation had gone far enough. SHIELD’s misdeeds had been exposed and the mission was now a complete loss. At that point, he just wanted to go _home_. 

“Wade,” he called out weakly, running his hands along the man’s jaw to catch his attention. 

“One second, Petey. Daddy needs to express some rage.”

Peter’s brows knitted in confusion. “Huh?” he murmured, giving a startled shout as the deafening sound of gunfire suddenly filled the cabin. Peter slapped his hands over his ears and hid his face against Wade’s neck, a fine tremor racing through his body as adrenaline flooded his system. He heard shouting from the agents and heavy thumps as something fell to the floor, but Peter didn’t raise his head to investigate until silence had settled over the interior of the jet.

The fairy slowly uncurled and twisted to look around, a gasp escaping his lips when he took in the sight of the bullet-ridden cockpit. The control panel was now sporting multiple bullet holes alongside the gouges from earlier, and the aircraft’s canopy looked like swiss cheese. The agents would definitely need to find another ride home.

Speaking of which, where _were_ the agents?

Peter searched around for signs of the three men, a quick scan of the room revealing them all still thankfully alive as they cowered on the floor behind whatever cover they could find. The fairy released a shaky breath at the sight of them, glad that they were unhurt. He may have been angry at them for lying, but Peter would never wish harm on another person. He’d like to think that Wade felt the same, but after that display, Peter wasn’t so sure anymore - and that uncertainty was frightening. 

Seconds passed before Wade made another move, the hero raising his arm to bring his gun up to his masked lips. He blew away the smoke that was still wafting from the barrel before holstering the weapon with a flourish. “Well then,” he crowed, putting his hands on his hips as he surveyed the carnage, “it looks like my job here is done. Have fun getting home, dickbags.”

He gave a jolly wave goodbye before curling a hand protectively around Peter and turning on his heel, leaving the jet without a backwards glance. “Oh, and give my regards to Captain Patches!” Wade shouted over his shoulder, tossing up a middle finger as he stomped down the ramp and wandered back into the snow-covered forest.


	16. Real Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesus Christ, this chapter was a pain in the ass. Wade and Peter just wouldn't cooperate! >:K
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoy the fruits of my labor. Mwah~

Wade was silent as they marched through the darkened woods, his heavy breaths the only noise in the stillness of the forest. Peter remained curled against the hero’s neck, his body shivering despite his new jacket and the warmth emanating from Wade’s suit. He shuffled around stiffly beneath the other’s large hand, his wings tucked along his back in an effort to keep them from getting damaged. He watched his breath fog before him in the moonlight, his mind racing with everything that had happened in the past few hours.

Peter wasn’t sure what to make of Wade’s behavior back in the jet. He understood why his friend would be angry (Peter felt the same way), but the unbridled _rage_ he’d shown the team of SHIELD agents was shocking. Not once in all the months that Peter had known Wade had the man displayed such glaring indifference toward the safety of others. Sure, his friend could be air-headed at times, possibly even a bit callous, but it had never reached a point where Peter considered it concerning.

Now, though - now Peter was very concerned. 

“Wade?” he started carefully, his lips numb from the cold. “What um… what happened back there?”

Wade tilted his head to show that he was listening. “Hm? What do you mean?”

“I mean in the jet,” Peter elaborated, pressing closer. “Why did you attack the agents like that?”

Wade snorted. “Because they deserved to be terrorized for what they did to you. Fucking liars.” He turned away from Peter then, mumbling, “Yeah, seriously. But I doubt Petey would appreciate hearing the finer details. Still, what I wouldn’t give to shove my boot straight up their-!”

“Please don’t,” Peter interrupted in a tired voice. “I’ve experienced enough violence today, thanks.”

Wade cooed and nuzzled his cheek against Peter awkwardly. “Sorry about that, Baby Boy. I just couldn’t help myself! When I got here and found out those assholes had sent you in alone, I threw a little heroic tantrum and kind of...destroyed their communications terminal. And took their weapons. And roughed them up a bit. But that’s all! After that, I ran straight into the facility to find you. Swearsies!”

Peter sighed heavily. “Wade…”

“Anyway, that’s not important,” the man continued, cutting him off. “What’s important is that you heard the truth directly from the agent’s mouth. And while I wouldn’t normally let you see the dirtier parts of my job, this was something you needed to find out first hand.”

Peter pressed closer, his gaze dropping to stare at Wade’s shoulder. “I can appreciate that,” he mused thoughtfully, mulling over Wade’s words. His eyes widened when something the other had said finally registered. 

“Wait a minute,” Peter began slowly, leaning back so he could get a better glimpse at Wade’s face in the gloom, “what do you mean, ‘the dirtier parts’ of your job? Have you done something like this before?” 

Wade looked away sharply and cleared his throat. “Well, uh…”

“But you’re a hero!” Peter cried, fumbling to sit up. “You protect people, not hurt them!”

A long stretch of silence followed Peter’s outburst. Wade stared straight ahead as he walked, the snap of twigs under his boots echoing between the trees. It felt like an eternity before the man finally spoke up. “Sometimes being a hero means getting down and dirty,” he said, his tone mild and uncaring, like it wasn’t a big deal.

Peter disagreed. 

“You’re wrong!” he shouted, pushing Wade’s hand away angrily. The hero appeared taken aback by Peter’s ire, turning to him with wide eyes as his hand fell away to thump uselessly at his side. Peter ignored Wade’s confusion and instead focused on getting to his feet, stumbling for a moment before he found his footing. Then he rounded on his friend, a severe frown on his face. 

“Heroes are the ones who stand up to evil and fight for what’s right! They have a responsibility to use their powers for the greater good!” Peter declared, squaring his shoulders under Wade’s intense gaze. “That’s what my Uncle Ben used to say, and I bet Captain America would agree.” 

Peter brought his hands up to settle aggressively on his hips, hoping that he looked commanding. His fingers were numb from the cold, but Peter ignored the discomfort in favor of keeping his pose. He was making an important statement here, dang it! He needed to get his point across!

Wade had stilled after Peter’s declaration, his face tilted so the white eye of his mask was focused on the shivering fairy perched on his shoulder. He stared for several moments as he stood quietly amidst the trees, Peter deflating slightly under his gaze, until finally the hero sighed and sent him a soft smile. “Your uncle sounds like a hell of a guy.”

Peter bit his lip and looked at his feet, his shoulders drooping. “He was,” he whispered in a small voice.

Wade didn’t press him further on the subject, and Peter was thankful for the reprieve. He hadn’t planned on bringing his uncle into the discussion, the memories of his loss still painful, but Peter knew his words had been true. Ben had always tried to instill a strong sense of right and wrong in Peter, as well as the need to help those less fortunate. The older man would have agreed with him wholeheartedly, had he been there.

Peter took a shaky breath and wiped the growing moisture from his eyes, hoping that Wade didn’t notice. 

“I get what you’re saying, Petey, I really do,” Wade murmured, moving ahead once more to push bare brush and tree limbs out of his path. “But trust me when I say that you haven’t even seen a fraction of the evil that exists in this world.” He paused momentarily, seeming to contemplate his next words. “And if it comes down to it,” Wade said, his eyes narrowing, “I’m more than willing to get my hands dirty if it means protecting the people I care about.” 

Peter swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat, his mind racing. While he understood Wade’s resolve and his drive to do anything for his friends, Peter simply couldn’t agree with the man’s methods. But while he was tempted to push the issue, he didn’t want his and Wade’s reunion to be tainted by an argument. So, for the sake of their friendship, Peter figured it was best to drop the subject. 

For now, anyway.

“Where are we going?” he asked instead, hoping to move their conversation in a more positive direction.

“I parked our ride nearby,” Wade replied easily, his grin popping back into place as though it had never left. “Tony couldn’t tag along, so he let me borrow one of his swanky jets instead. He made me give my word that I wouldn’t trash it, though.” Wade giggled and cupped a hand to his mouth, whispering loudly, “Jokes on him, my word isn’t worth jack shit.”

Peter offered his friend a small grin as he sat back down and curled into a ball for warmth. “You mentioned Tony earlier. I hope he didn’t give you a hard time when you asked him for help.” This of course would have been the most likely reaction from the man, considering he and Wade went together like oil and water. Peter knew first hand how Wade enjoyed getting on Tony’s nerves, and while the businessman was always quick to fire back with his sharp tongue and slick wit, their working relationship tended to be strained because of it. 

But to Peter’s surprise, Wade waved away his concern with a laugh. “Pfft, naw, he was an angel.”

Peter snorted harshly. “An angel?” That was certainly a word he’d never expected Wade to use in regards to Tony. 

“A very short angel, with _amazing_ facial hair,” the man continued with a wistful sigh. “Oh, if only I could rock a moustache and beard combo as tight as his...” 

Peter gave his friend a few moments to bask in the glory of Tony’s manscaping before prodding him for further information. 

“So, what you’re saying is that he _didn’t_ yell at you? Or throw you out of the Tower?”

Wade appeared utterly shocked at the suggestion, placing a delicate hand to his chest. “Huh? Of course not! My ol’ pal Tony would never dream of doing such a thing!”

Peter put a finger to his chin and pretended to think deeply. “Hmm, no, I’m pretty sure he threatened to toss you into a cement mixer the last time we visited.”

“Tch, that was forever and a day ago.”

“It was last week!”

“Wow, that long? Time sure flies, doesn’t it?” 

Peter shot him a dubious glare. Wade grinned cheekily. “Aww, don’t give me that look, Baby Boy! Tony really did help me out. In fact, he was the one who figured out where SHIELD had sent you.”

Now Peter was both surprised and intrigued. “Really? How did he do that?”

Wade threw his arms out wide as they approached the edge of a clearing, cackling gleefully. “He’s got dem resources, Pete! He and FRIDAY hacked into SHIELD’s database and tracked your itinerary in like two seconds flat.”

“Tony can do that?!”

Wade gave him a cheesy thumbs up. “Hell yes he can! Tony’s skilled when it comes to fucking with other people’s stuff. Why else do you think we keep that nerd around?”

“Because he’s Iron Man?”

Wade rolled his eyes. “Well, if you want to get technical about it…”

They walked several yards into the clearing, Wade jabbering the entire way about his trip into Canada and how nostalgic it was to be back. “Though I can’t say I’ve ever been to this particular shit hole,” he quipped, sniffing haughtily. Then, apropos of nothing, Wade’s hand shot up lighting fast, snatched Peter off his shoulder, and brought the shivering fairy to his chest, all in one fluid motion. Peter let out an embarrassing squeak at the sudden move, but bit back his complaint when he realized how much warmer he was tucked away in the man’s grasp. 

He remained quiet for the next several minutes, merely soaking up Wade’s body heat as he listened to the hero’s incessant chatter. However, despite how comfortable he was nestled in between Wade’s glorious pectorals, it didn’t take long for Peter to grow weary of their trek. 

Twisting his upper body, Peter glanced around as best he could from his position and searched their surroundings for any sign of their ride home. The snow and gloom made it almost impossible to see more than a few meters in any direction though, leaving Peter frustrated and antsy. This was getting ridiculous!

“Are we almost there?” he asked impatiently, squirming in the other man’s hold.

“We’re getting close, don’t you worry!” Wade announced, giving Peter a pat on the head. 

The fairy growled in protest and batted the hand away, crossing his arms tightly in a huff. “Wade, I swear to you that if we don’t get there in the next 10 minutes, I’m going to do something horrific to you in your sleep.”

“Ooh, will it be sexy?”

“No.”

Luckily for Peter (and possibly Wade), the man had been right. True to Wade’s word, as soon as they’d reached the other end of the clearing the body of a jet came into view, its surface awashed in soft moonlight. Peter craned his neck to get a good look, his eyes widening at the sight. 

“Oh wow!” he breathed in awe, mouth falling open.

“Ain’t she a beaut?” Wade said in a ridiculous Australian accent, stepping up to the sleek black jet and pressing himself into its side in a one-armed hug. “Who’s a pretty plane? You are!”

“Wade-”

“Who’s worth more than my entire collection of _Golden Girls_ memorabilia? You are! Yes you are!”

“Wade!”

“What?” he answered in a huff, still stuck to the jet’s exterior like a tick.

“You’re crushing me!” Peter shouted, voice slightly muffled.

The hero jumped back as though he’d been burned. “Oh shit, sorry!” 

Peter hissed as he rubbed feeling back into his frozen cheeks, then gave Wade’s chest a reassuring pat. “It’s okay,” he said, offering the man a stiff smile. “But can we go in now? I’m cold.”

Wade smacked his forehead with his free hand. “Of course, Petey Pie! Goodness, where are my manners? Let me show you around!” He raised his fist and knocked on the shiny metal coating, shouting, “Hey, FRIDAY! Open up! Petey’s freezing his nuts off out here!”

“What do nuts have to do with anything?” Peter wondered absently, his question quickly forgotten when a panel on the side of the plane opened up to reveal the interior. “Whoa…” he murmured, his gaze flicking around from one end of the jet to the other. He barely paid any mind to the short set of stairs that lowered from beneath the door’s edge, his focus entirely on the equipment laid before them.

While some parts of the plane were similar to those Peter had traveled in previously, this one had a certain flare that just screamed _Tony Stark_. The control panels were covered in soft blue light similar to the arc reactor, while the metallic surfaces shimmered beautifully under the fluorescent lamps built into the ceiling. State-of-the-art flat screens were scattered across the entirety of the jet, their displays coming to life as Wade climbed up the stairs and headed toward the leather seats in the cockpit.

“Hey, FRIDAY! How’s it hangin’? Did you miss me?” he called out, his arm slung lazily over the back of a chair.

“Good evening, My Dope-Ass Prince,” FRIDAY’s voice replied, her gentle tone reverberating inside the cabin. “I see your rescue mission went well.”

Wade struck a pose. “Of course! I put the ‘scue’ in rescue.”

“Indeed,” she said, the door to the jet closing behind them. “Seeing as how you have successfully retrieved Mr. Peter from certain death, would you like for me to begin preparations for take-off?”

“Hell yes! Let’s get going.” Wade dropped into the pilot’s chair and planted his feet on the console, the residue snow from his boots leaving a puddle on the dashboard. After getting comfortable, he laid Peter out on his chest and put his hands behind his head, the very image of lazy relaxation. “Can’t wait to leave this shithole in the dust and get back to civilization. How about you, Petey? Ready to go?” he asked almost absently, eyes closed. 

Peter didn’t respond right away, too busy basking in the heat circulating from the vents above. He sighed as feeling slowly returned to his fingers, taking the opportunity to clumsily wipe the fog from his glasses and brush the snowflakes off his wings. They were still a bit brittle from the cold, but now that he’d have a chance to warm up, Peter figured they should be back in working order by the time the plane reached New York. 

Peter grinned at the thought. 

Once he’d finished his tasks, Peter replaced his glasses on his nose and laid flat on his belly atop Wade, his head nestled on his crossed arms. “Yeah,” he murmured in a belated answer to the other’s question, smiling up at his friend. “It’ll be nice to be back home. I can’t wait to- _Oh jeez_!” Peter cried abruptly, eyes wide as he pushed up to his elbows. 

Wade’s feet dropped to the floor and he sat up sharply, instantly alert. “What, what? What is it?”

Peter flailed at the abrupt shift, grabbing a hold of Wade’s suit to keep himself from sliding onto the floor. “I forgot my stuff back at the SHIELD jet!” he said in a panic, clinging to the hero like a koala. 

The tension in Wade’s shoulders eased. “Oh,” he replied, his body relaxing. “No big deal. You wanna go back for it?”

Peter’s heart leapt into his throat. “No! No. It’s fine, really,” he assured, shaking his head frantically. “I have more clothes at home.” Oh man, the _last_ thing everyone needed was Wade paying the SHIELD agents another visit! Peter would much rather suffer the embarrassment of apologizing to Ellie for losing his clothes. At least that wouldn’t end in additional property damage.

Wade’s head tilted curiously at his fervent denial. “You sure?”

“Absolutely, positively sure!”

Wade studied Peter for a few seconds more, but thankfully let the subject drop with a careless shrug. “Hmm, alright, if you say so,” he said, pushing back in his seat and returning his feet to the console, reclining leisurely. “FRIDAY, take ‘er away!” 

“As you wish, Mr. Dope. Departure systems and autopilot functions activating. Setting course for New York City.”

The plane rumbled as the engine revved up, the lights in the cockpit dimming and navigational information flashing on the screens above them. Peter settled back down on Wade’s chest, his head pillowed on his arms and his eyes drooping sleepily. Now that his sudden kick of adrenaline was wearing off, Peter’s exhaustion was beginning to weigh on his mind. He couldn’t wait to get home, curl up in his bed, and sleep for a week.

The fairy blinked blearily, his eyelids heavy. He closed them with the excuse of resting his eyes for a moment, but he must have nodded off because the next thing he knew he was snapping awake to a high-pitched buzzing in his ear. 

“Wha? What’s that?” he called out in a groggy voice, lifting his head and fixing his crooked glasses as he searched for the source of the noise.

Wade shuffled around in his seat, jostling Peter in the process. “Huh? What’s what?” he asked, sounding distracted.

“It sounds like there’s a bug next to my ear.” Peter shook his head to get rid of the odd noise, but when it didn’t stop he lifted a hand to his ear. He jumped when his fingers hit something plastic, and only then did Peter remember the earpiece he’d received before the mission. “Oh yeah!” he exclaimed, pulling the object out and holding it up for Wade to see. “I forgot I had this!”

“Is that an earpiece?” Wade wondered, reaching down to pinch the tiny item between his gloved fingers before bringing it to his face to inspect. “Did those agents give you this?”

Peter’s chest puffed up with pride, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten. “Yep! It’s SHIELD issued - specially made just for someone my size! Isn’t it neat?”

FRIDAY’s smooth voice filtered down from the ceiling. “The device appears to be attempting to relay our flight coordinates to a separate system via a secured channel. Would you like for me to trace the data signal?”

“No need.” Wade crushed the earpiece between his fingers, ignoring Peter’s indignant squawk as he let the pieces fall carelessly to the floor. “It’s either SHIELD wanting to know where their patsy is being taken, or it’s those Hydra fucks trying to track an enemy plane. Either way, I don’t give a shit.”

Peter crawled over to the edge of Wade’s chest and leaned over the side, staring forlornly at the remains of his earpiece. “Wade, why did you do that?” he whined in a totally-100%-manly voice. “That was an amazing piece of technology!”

Wade blocked Peter’s view with his hand and gently maneuvered the fairy up to his clavicle. “Don’t worry about it,” he soothed, tone light. “It wasn’t anything Tony couldn’t whip up for you in an afternoon. Plus, I bet he’d let you choose the color. How cool would that be, huh?” 

“I guess,” Peter muttered uncertainly, laying down on his side. He was still a bit peeved that Wade had just _broken_ it. Peter could have learned a lot by taking that earpiece apart! Maybe he’d take Wade up on his suggestion of asking Tony to make him a new one. That way, he could learn how to create them, too.

“Aww, don’t be upset, Petey,” Wade cooed, running a gentle finger over Peter’s hair. “Hey! I got an idea! Wanna watch a movie with me? I bet Tony’s got this thing _hooked up_!”

“Depends,” Peter said, playing coy. “What movie?” 

“I dunno, let’s check out our options. FRIDAY! What’s on the menu?”

“Considering your topic of conversation, I take it you are inquiring as to whether there are movies available to stream on my system?” the AI answered, sounding amused.

“Got it in one, beautiful!”

Without further comment, the main screens in front of them jittered to life with a list of available videos to watch. Wade shouted gleefully before pressing Peter to his chest and leaning forward to get a better look at their options. Peter grunted and struggled in Wade’s hold, his face smushed against the other’s suit. It only took a moment for him to realize that his friend was far too excited to pay any attention to his plight, so the fairy went limp with a resigned sigh.

“Oh, oh! This one, let’s watch this one!” Wade shouted, wiggling in his chair and jabbing a finger at the monitor. 

Peter turned as best he could to see what Wade was pointing at, frowning when he spotted the title. “ _Roxanne?_ What’s that?”

“It’s about a guy with a freakishly long nose trying to woo a hot lady,” Wade explained shortly, sitting back in his chair. “The jokes are great and Steve Martin is brilliant as always, but I gotta be honest, it’s the giant prosthetic nose that makes it a classic.” The hero placed a finger under Peter’s chin, urging him to meet Wade’s gaze. “Whatd’ya say? You up for a Rom Com?”

Peter wasn’t sure he’d be able to stay awake for an entire movie, but Wade was giving him the biggest pair of puppy eyes to date, so he figured he’d give it a shot. “Okay.”

FRIDAY wordlessly turned down the lights and started the movie, the jet shaking beneath them as it lifted from the ground and began the journey back to New York. Peter snuggled closer to Wade as the movie’s opening credits began, smiling when the man’s hand curled around him loosely. The soft pressure of Wade’s palm against his wings prompted Peter to give them a tentative flutter, delight coursing through him when they responded without pain. It looked like they wouldn’t suffer any permanent damage from the cold, after all! 

Relieved, Peter tucked his wings close to his back and pressed his cheek to Wade’s warm suit, his eyelids drooping once more. He resumed his efforts to pay attention to the film despite his looming exhaustion, but as usual, Wade wasn’t helping matters. The hero would frequently caress Peter’s hair in slow, affectionate strokes, the gestures only furthering his fatigue and sending Peter deeper into a drowsy haze. 

And so, while the film’s protagonist was battling to win the heart of the titular Roxanne, Peter was fighting to stay conscious. He put in a valiant effort, but with the added warmth of Wade’s hold and the low lighting, Peter knew he wouldn’t last long. He focused his wandering attention on the other man in a last ditch effort to stave off sleep, only to realize that his friend’s lighthearted comments and laughter had petered off at some point during the movie. 

At first Peter figured that Wade had just grown tired, but a quick peek at the other’s face showed that he was clearly awake, his eyes focused intently on the monitor. He would even whisper to Yellow and White from time to time, though never loud enough so that Peter could understand him. Huh. 

Okay then, if Wade was still paying attention to the movie, why wasn’t he enjoying himself anymore? Did he only like the first half? Peter puzzled over Wade’s uncharacteristic intensity, the urge to question his friend rising up in his chest. He opened his mouth to ask if Wade wanted to watch something else, but before he could get a word out, he was interrupted by an enormous yawn that left his eyes watering.

Wade’s gaze dropped down to the fairy on his chest, a soft smile visible under his mask. “You getting sleepy, Pete?”

“Mmhmm,” Peter hummed, not coherent enough to string together a proper response. 

“Alright,” Wade removed Peter’s glasses delicately, leaning forward to place them on the control panel and out of harm’s way, “I’ll try to stay quiet so you can rest. You’ll need your energy for our heroic return.”

Peter grunted in reply, his face pressed against Wade’s chest and his eyelids now too heavy to ignore. His earlier concern forgotten, Peter yawned again and shifted languidly, his movements awkward and slow. He sighed when Wade swiped the hair out of his face with a tender touch, the man’s hand soon returning to settle over Peter’s back like a blanket.

Eyes falling closed, Peter allowed his body to relax and his mind to blank, the events of the day promptly swept under a curtain of darkness. The audio from the movie became a dull rumble in the background, while the steady thump of Wade’s heartbeat remained a soothing constant under his ear. Together the sounds acted as the perfect lullaby, sending Peter into a light doze and then eventually a pleasant, dreamless sleep.


	17. Tony Makes an Offer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! This one only took me a little over a month to finish. Progress! :D

Peter woke in stages. 

His consciousness first stirred when he heard FRIDAY’s voice filter through the cabin, informing them that they’d be arriving in New York airspace momentarily. Peter tried to focus on Wade’s mumbled reply, but his eyes were heavy and silence soon descended once more, allowing Peter to fall back into a light doze.

The second time Peter was roused from slumber was when the sensation of free-falling settled in his belly. The fairy grumbled and opened his eyes, grateful for the low lighting above. Peter shifted against the warm kevlar of Wade’s suit, finding that he was still situated atop the other’s chiseled chest. Peter cleared his throat and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, mumbling to himself when his stomach dropped as the jet gave another lurch.

“What’s happening?” he asked through a yawn.

Wade’s gloved hand came up and wrapped around Peter, steadying him as the plane swayed. “FRIDAY’s bringing us in for a landing,” he said, leaning back leisurely. “I offered to land this baby myself, but the ol’ girl refused. Something about inevitable property damage and unpaid debts? I dunno, I didn’t really listen.”

Peter didn’t respond immediately. He took a moment to inspect the cabin, noting that the movie had been turned off at some point and the flat-screen in front of them was now showing their flight pattern. Peter ran a hand through his disheveled hair and glanced up at his friend shyly. “Sorry for falling asleep on you,” he murmured, his cheeks heating in embarrassment. “Figuratively _and_ literally. I, uh, I didn’t mean to.”

Peter was relieved when Wade offered a good-natured laugh in return. 

“Don’t worry about it, Baby Boy, I wasn’t hurt any by it.”

They shared an easy smile as the jet continued to descend, the air outside choppy as it whipped by. FRIDAY gave them tabs on their progress, her soft voice acting as a soothing balm for Peter’s frayed nerves. He _really_ hated this part of the trip. To think that humans had managed flight for over 100 years but had yet to master something as simple as a smooth landing! Peter could only sigh heavily in disappointment. 

He’d definitely have to find the time to give Mr. Stark some pointers on how to improve the capabilities of his  private jets

After some additional tremors and a light thump, FRIDAY announced that they had finally made it to the landing strip of Avengers Tower. Wade was up and out of his chair almost immediately, placing Peter in one of his pouches before stretching languidly. 

“It’s good to be back in the good ol’ U.S. of A!” he shouted, his arms dropping heavily back to his sides. 

“Welcome back,” FRIDAY greeted cheerfully. “The current time is 4:37 am. The weather is partly cloudy with a temperature of 72 degrees fahrenheit.”

Wade clapped his hands together. “Perfect! Sounds great.” He tilted his chin down to look at his belt, easily locating the pouch that housed Peter. Wade tapped on it lightly, grinning when the fairy poked his head out from under the clasp and looked up at him expectantly. 

“Hey, what d’ya say we drop in on Mr. Facial Hair himself before we head home?” Wade asked, leaning down to bring his face closer to Peter’s. “I gotta return the keys to his precious jet, anyway.”

“This plane doesn’t require a key, Mr. Dope,” FRIDAY announced evenly.

Wade stood back up and threw his hands into the air, exasperated. “FRIDAY, Babe, I love you but you gotta give me some breathing room! I can’t think straight with you going all ‘mother hen’ on me.”

“I appreciate your critique, Mr. Dope. I will take it to heart for all of our future exchanges.”

“See that you do.”

They gathered their few belongings (Peter having to remind Wade to retrieve his glasses) and stepped up to the exit, the hero waiting impatiently for the door to open. He slipped out as soon as there was enough room, the stomping of his boots almost drowned out by the loud _whoosh_ of the engines as they powered down. Peter was jostled around at every harsh step as Wade clattered down the stairs, the fairy breathing a sigh of relief when the hero’s feet hit the pavement. 

He gripped the edge of the pouch and peeked out at their surroundings languidly, his eyelids drooping. Peter was tempted to duck down into Wade’s pouch and catch a nap, but he fought the allure of sleep when he realized that the Tower was fully lit and active as ever. 

“Does Tony ever get any rest?” he called out, looking up at Wade.

“Rest is for the weak!” a familiar voice called over the noise, drawing Peter and Wade’s attention to the figure approaching them from the entrance of the Tower.

Wade pressed his hands to his cheeks and released an obnoxiously loud squeal. “Look, it’s Tony! How ya doin’, Buuuuuuuddy?”

“Hey Wilson, do me a favor and be quiet for a minute. Or an eternity, whichever you can handle,” Tony snarked, coming to a stop a few feet in front of them. He made a show of studying the jet over Wade’s shoulder, his eyebrows raised in surprise. “I see that you managed to get my plane back here in one piece. And FRIDAY mentioned something about you finding Peter?”

Wade thrust his hips forward, presenting his ride-along passenger like a pushy Shia Lebouf demanding that Tony 'Just do it!' “Yessiree, just like I said I would.”

Tony placed a hand to his chin, humming thoughtfully, only to drop it a moment later with a click of his tongue. “Congratulations. I’m...impressed? Maybe even a bit proud? Of you? I think?” he said, sounding hesitant. He watched Wade wiggle excitedly at his words, waiting a beat before finishing with a decisive nod. “Hm, yeah, let’s go with that. I’m proud of you, Wade. You did a good job. You know, for once.”

Wade made an odd squeaking noise that slowly built into a shrill shriek. Tony and Peter both winced at the noise. “Oh, Tony!” Wade cried, prancing forward to throw his arms around the scientist with an exaggerated sob. “All I ever wanted was to make you proud!”

Tony looked appalled. “Whatever, fine, just please let go,” he demanded, struggling to escape Wade’s vice-like grip.

Wade did eventually let go, but it was only after a lot of muffled cursing and threats of severe violence from Tony. (“So serious, I swear to _God_ , Wilson-!”) Once they’d parted, Tony brushed away invisible dirt from his t-shirt and tattered jeans, grumbling about handsy Canadian morons. He threw one final glare at an ecstatic Wade before turning his attention to Peter.

“I’m glad to see you’re alright. How’d your first mission go?”

Peter leaned out of the pouch to get a better look at Tony. “It went fine. I wasn’t a fan of the whole ‘SHIELD lied to me’ aspect of it, though.”

“Me neither,” Tony said, gesturing for Wade to follow him as he turned and entered the Tower. “I figured SHIELD would eventually come to you with an offer, but I never expected they’d be dumb enough to go about it all ‘cloak and dagger’ like.”

Peter watched Tony curiously. “Cloak and dagger?” 

“Means they kept it a secret,” Wade offered casually as he followed Tony into the Avengers’ common room. He moved to sit at the bar while Tony went behind it to make a drink, the older man pulling a face when Wade lifted the bottom of his mask and started eating from a bowl of mixed nuts. 

“Go ahead, help yourself.”

“Well, if you insist,” Wade said, his mouth full of cashews.

Peter shed his stuffy jacket, leaving it behind as he climbed out of his pouch and fluttered up to the counter, his feet setting down delicately on the smooth surface. He lifted a hand in greeting when Tony acknowledged him, the older man nodding his head politely. 

“Peter, would you like anything? I know I’m always hungry after a life or death situation.”

“Huh? Oh, um,” Peter started, surprised to find himself suddenly ravenous. “Sure. Can I have a parfait?” He watched Tony step to the small fridge at the bar and remove the requested dessert from inside before snatching a clean plate from the cupboard. Peter smiled at the man as he set them both on the counter, thanking him when Tony popped off the top and poured some of the yogurt and fruit onto the plate. 

“Bon appétit,” Tony said, setting the rest of the parfait to the side. 

Wade snorted as he shoveled more nuts into his mouth. “Excuse me, but I believe it’s pronounced ‘bone apple-tit,” he corrected haughtily, rolling his eyes. “Pfft, Philistine.”

Tony sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Wade, it’s way too late in the day to be dealing with your bullshit. In fact, FRIDAY,” he called out abruptly, taking a quick pull from his glass, “what time is it?”

“It is currently 4:54 am, sir.”

Tony’s head jerked back in surprise. “Whoa, crap, really? I was working longer than I thought.” He cringed, finishing off his drink. “Pepper’s gonna kill me.”

“Much as I’d like to discuss how profoundly _whipped_ you are,” Wade interrupted, finishing off the last of the mixed nuts with an enormous belch, “would you mind saying whatever it is you have to say? It’s not that I don’t love your company, Tony Tennille, but Petey and I would like to go home.”

Tony paused as he contemplated his empty glass. He took a deep breath in through his nose and blew it out in a sigh before his eyes met Wade’s once more. “That’s probably not a good idea.”

Wade’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I got an angry call from Fury not too long ago,” Tony started, setting his glass down lightly on the counter. Wade visibly tensed at his words, but Tony didn’t comment on the reaction. 

“What did Fury have to say?” 

“He demanded to know if I’d seen or heard from you recently. Said you’d interfered in SHIELD business and ruined a very delicate operation.”

Wade sent Tony a truly terrifying grin. “If he thinks that’s all I’m going to ruin, then he clearly doesn’t know me that well.”

“Step carefully, Wilson,” Tony cautioned, eying Wade warily. “I understand your anger, but SHIELD has their fingers in a lot of pots. They’re not the type of people you want to go to war with.”

Wade leaned forward, his voice low as he stated with finality, “Then they shouldn’t have fucked with Peter.”

“Look, I get it,” Tony said, raising his hands in a placating gesture. “I really do. And I 100% agree that they went too far in their scheming. Just do me a solid and try not to poke the beehive too harshly, alright? Otherwise, innocent people may get stung.” He threw Wade a meaningful look.

Wade snorted but didn’t say anything further on the matter, his eyes dropping to glare at the bar top. Peter watched him silently, his brows furrowed in worry. Would SHIELD really retaliate against Wade? It’s not like he’d actually hurt Agent Mills and the others, he’d just scared them a little bit! 

...Well, okay, _a lot_ , but still, did that really warrant a full-blown freak out from SHIELD? Peter had thought he’d understood how SHIELD operated, but apparently he’d been wrong. If Wade’s actions could possibly bring the organization’s wrath down upon them, then perhaps SHIELD wasn’t all that Peter had thought them to be.

A heavy silence fell over the three crowding around the bar, all of them wrapped up in their own thoughts. Peter wondered if he should speak up - perhaps try to smooth things over somehow and reassure everyone that things would work out - but the words died on his lips the moment he tried to voice them. So instead, Peter wrung his hands nervously as he fretted over Tony’s warning and Wade’s answering threat, his snack forgotten.  

It was Tony who eventually tried to ease the uncomfortable atmosphere. 

“You know,” he started, staring pensively into his glass, “Fury wasn’t the only one to give me a ring this morning.”

Wade straightened in his seat, his gaze back on Tony. “Who else?” he asked, his tone steely. 

“Coulson and Hill. They called a few hours before the big boss, asking if I knew your whereabouts.”

“Coulson?” Wade echoed, his leather glove creaking as he made a fist on the counter. “I figured that asshole had something to do with this.”

“Who knows?” Tony said, looking up with a shrug. “That guy always keeps his cards close to his chest. It’s hard to get a read on him, sometimes. But to be honest, he did sound unsure about the whole situation.” 

Wade appeared slightly mollified by Tony’s assessment. “What about Hill?”

“I’d say she stuck pretty close to the script. Not a lot of emotion from her, one way or the other. Though she did mention something about Peter going missing.” Wade gave an unamused grunt, to which Tony simply grinned. “Tell me about it. Thankfully this was after you’d come to me for help, so I knew they were full of it. I fed ‘em a story to get them off my tail and then had JARVIS monitor SHIELD’s communications to make sure they weren’t wise to our plan.”

Wade chuckled softly as he slid his palm over the top of his head. Peter recognized it as an irritated gesture. 

“Thanks for that,” Wade said, dropping his arm to the counter. “And here I thought you’d left your diabolical tendencies back in your pre-heroing days.”

Tony smirked as he poured himself another drink. “Why Wade, are you paying me a compliment? I figured you of all people could appreciate my underhanded qualities, but I never expected you to come right out and say it. I’m touched, truly.”

Wade tipped an imaginary hat toward the other man. “I can appreciate your wily nature when it involves keeping SHIELD off my ass.”

“Would you appreciate it more if I told you that I’m willing to let you two stay here until the heat dies down?” Tony asked, downing his second drink in one gulp.

The white eyes of Wade’s mask went wide at the offer, his mouth falling open. Peter gaped right along with him.

“You’re inviting me to stay in your tower? Like, for the night?” Wade whispered, awe in his voice.

Tony dropped his glass to the table with a thunk. “Or for however long it takes for SHIELD to simmer down, sure. But not just you. As always, Peter is part of the package.” He nodded toward the fairy, a small smile lifting the corner of his lips when Peter looked up at him with a shining eyes. 

“Do you mean it, Tony? You’re going to let us stay?” Peter asked, voice full of hope. He’d never been allowed to stay the night before!

“Of course! You’re way better at keeping Wade in check than I ever was. Plus, he’s less annoying when you’re around,” Tony asserted, smirking at Wade when the other flipped him off behind Peter’s back. “Believe me Peter, you have my full and complete trust to keep Wade out of my hair and away from my fridge.”

“Way to be a dick, you dick,” the other hero grumbled, though there wasn’t much bite to his tone.

“Never pretend to be anything more than your true self, Wade. Remember that,” Tony declared with a shit-eating grin, turning to place his used glass to the side. 

Peter rounded on Wade, his eyes alight with excitement at the prospect of having a sleepover at Tony’s house. He waited for the man to give his inevitable go-ahead, perplexed to find that Wade seemed to be overthinking the offer. Peter leaned forward, about to ask what was wrong, only to be startled when Wade suddenly said, “Thanks, but no thanks, Stark.”

Peter’s jaw hit the countertop. “Wh-what?” 

“What?” Tony repeated more forcefully, for once looking completely stunned. “Are you kidding me, Wilson? You’ve been crying and moaning about not being allowed in my tower for the last three years, but now that I’m giving you the chance to live your dream you turn me down?”

“Who said hanging around your smelly tower was my dream?” Wade shot back, crossing his arms indignantly. 

Tony threw his hands into the air. “You did! On multiple occasions!” He paused briefly, then placed his hands on his hips, adding, “And my tower isn’t smelly!”

“Well, maybe I changed my mind!” Wade exclaimed harshly, arms tightening as he shifted his body away from the other man.

Tony rolled his eyes. “Oh, really? When did you change your mind?”

“Just now!”

“What the hell, Wade?!” Tony yelled, sounding completely fed up. He slammed his palms down on the counter and leaned forward to point at Wade from across the bar. “I thought you’d be all over this opportunity like an especially ugly fly on shit. Seriously Wilson, do you think this is easy for me?” he demanded harshly, eyes narrowed. “I’m not offering to help you out because I _like_ you, you know. I’m doing it out of the goodness of my heart.”

When Wade didn’t respond, Tony dropped his hand and stood back up with a ‘tsk.’ “Come on, man, I fielded calls from Fury, Coulson, _and_ Hill for you! The bureaucratic trifecta from hell! The _least_ you could do to repay me is let me make sure your stupid ass doesn’t get yourself or Peter hurt!”

“I’ll protect Peter no matter what!” Wade snarled back, slamming his own fists on the counter and standing up to get in Tony’s face. “I don’t need your help!”

That was when Peter finally decided to intervene. 

“Wade, why can’t we stay with Tony?” he asked desperately, fluttering over to perch next to the hero’s clenched fist and place a gentle hand on his glove. “It won’t be forever - just until SHIELD isn’t mad at you anymore. Right?” He looked to Tony for an answer.

The hero nodded. “Exactly. I’m just giving you a place to lay low for a bit. You won’t owe me anything, I promise.”

“It’s not about that,” Wade said, his hand loosening beneath Peter’s warm fingers. “I’ve already put you in a bad spot by having you hack into SHIELD’s database and borrowing your jet for my recon trip. If ol’ Patches figures out you’re harboring me here, you’ll never be able to work with SHIELD again.”

Tony blinked, obviously taken aback by Wade’s concern. “Well, that’s only true _if_ he finds out, and I don’t intend to let that happen,” he said with finality. Then he paused, taking a moment to think as he shifted on his feet before stating, “I’m a big boy, Wade. I can take care of myself.”

“I dunno, Tony,” Wade sighed, sounding exhausted. He glanced down at Peter as he retook his seat. “I don’t think it’s a very good idea. I’d rather just lay low at a safe house or something.” 

Tony scoffed. “You have a safer house than mine?” 

Wade glared at him.

“Come on, Wade,” Peter persisted, patting his friend’s hand. “Things’ll work out. Let’s stay with Tony. At the very least we’ll be close to a friend, right?” 

“Petey, I don’t-”

“Please, Wade?” Peter begged, clasping his hands in front of him. “Please?”

Wade leaned away from Peter’s Pouty Face™ with a soft gasp, holding one hand up to shield himself from the fairy’s overpowering cuteness. “Damn it, Pete! You can’t do me like this. You know that look is my kryptonite!”

Peter blinked in momentary confusion at the unfamiliar term, but then he soldiered on, doubling his efforts as his lower lip jutted out pathetically. “Please?”

Wade mimed being shot in the heart as he teetered on his barstool, his face pained. “Ugh, Petey, no! I’m putting my foot down on this one!” he said, looking purposely at the opposite wall. “Tell you what, how about we hang around with another friend of mine until this whole situation blows over? That way, Tony can pretend he never saw us and Fury can calm his tits.”

“Fury’s tits will never be calmed,” Tony said pointedly, giving Wade an unimpressed look.

“Okay,” Wade amended, turning his head back to them. “We’ll wait just long enough for him to reach the point where he won’t explode into a pile of righteous anger the moment he sees me. That better?”

Tony hummed noncommittally while Peter deflated. The fairy hung his arms at his sides and sat down heavily on the counter with a disappointed murmur.

“Oh Baby Boy, don’t be that way,” Wade tried to soothe. He grasped Peter gently in his hand and brought the fairy to his unmasked cheek for a snuggle. “We can sleep over at Tony’s some other time. Preferably when the fuzz isn’t on our tail.”

“Okay,” Peter agreed solemnly, pressing close to Wade’s warm skin. 

“Okay,” Tony repeated, clapping his hands together. “You don’t want to stay here? Fine. But if that’s the case, then you best be clearing out while you’ve still got the cover of darkness.”

Wade snorted out a laugh and lifted his head. “Jesus Tony, this isn’t a crime drama. Stop trying to sound like a gangster, you’re embarrassing yourself.”

Tony pointed aggressively at the exit. “Out!”

Wade lowered his mask and gathered Peter to his chest before climbing out of his seat and making his way into the elevator. Once they’d entered, Wade pressed the button for the lobby and stood back, waving cheekily at Tony until the doors closed. However, instead of stopping at the first floor like they’d intended, FRIDAY’s voice flowed down from the speakers and informed them that Tony’s personal driver would be taking them to their destination. 

“Are you serious?” Wade asked, sounding genuinely surprised. 

“As serious as a myocardial infarction, sir.”

Wade giggled. “You said ‘infarction.’”

The elevator continued its descent until they reached the basement parking garage. Wade peeked out curiously as soon as the doors opened, the eyes of his mask going wide at the sight of all the sleek, expensive-looking cars. Peter followed suit from his place tucked under Wade’s chin, peering through the gaps between the man’s fingers. 

“Mr. Wilson?” someone said, their voice reverberating from deep inside the garage. Seconds later, a man stepped out from between the vehicles and walked toward them at an even pace. He was wearing a fancy suit and appeared well-groomed, but his face was frozen in an expression of utmost disdain. 

Wade was ecstatic. “O.M.G.! Happy? Is that you!?” he shouted, bouncing over to greet the man. 

The man - Happy, Peter presumed - seemed entirely put-out at Wade’s appearance. Peter wasn’t sure why exactly, as he’d never seen the other before and didn’t recognize his name. Then again, Wade had referred to him personally, so they must be familiar on some level. Maybe Wade had caused trouble for him in the past? It certainly wouldn’t be the first time the hero’s behavior had earned him someone’s ire, and it would explain Happy’s current demeanor. 

Peter jumped, startled, when Happy’s gaze suddenly dropped from Wade’s face to lock on him. He stared at the fairy for a long moment, his face going eerily blank in what Peter could only assume was shock and confusion. A pretty common reaction from people, in all honesty. You’d think Peter would have been used to it by now.

Unsure if he should introduce himself or just leave well-enough alone, Peter decided to go with the safe option and just stare back. The uncomfortable encounter stretched on for another couple of seconds until Wade mercifully stepped in to steal away Happy’s attention.

“My good sir, I never thought I’d see the day where you’re chauffeuring me around town like a proper lady,” Wade said, pretending to fan himself as he gave a high-pitched giggle.

“Me neither,” Happy grumbled in return, his gaze popping back up to Wade’s face only to recoil when the hero made smooching noises at him. “Look, just....just get in the car,” he choked out, gesturing toward a brightly polished black SUV that was parked nearby. “The sooner you’re out of the tower, the better.”

“Mmm, yes, boss me around some more, Mr. Hogan,” Wade said in a faux southern belle accent. “You know what I like.”

Happy made a disgusted noise and turned on his heel, all but running to get around to the driver’s side of the car. Wade didn’t make any further comment as he stepped up to the backseat and opened the door to climb in, laughing giddily when he spotted all the high-tech gadgets built into the vehicle’s interior. 

“Ooo, what’s this?” he asked when he’d settled into a seat, pressing a random button on the armrest and gasping as his chair began to vibrate. “Oooooh yeeeeaaah,” he cooed, sliding deeper into the cushion. “Full body massage feature.”

“Please don’t touch anything,” Happy admonished, slamming the driver side door and situating himself behind the steering wheel. “Okay, where are we headed?” 

Wade resettled into his seat and turned off the massager. “To see a friend of mine,” he announced vaguely as he set Peter down on his thigh and dug his cell phone out of his pocket. He scrolled through its contents until he found what he was looking for, then flipped the screen around and held it up for Happy to see. “Take us to this location and drop us off. We’ll hoof it from there.”

“Are you sure? That’s a pretty skeevy part of town,” Happy warned, sounding unsure.

Wade shot him an odd look as he put his phone away. “I’ve got enough weapons on me to take out an entire city block single-handed. I think we’ll be fine.”

Happy shrugged. “Point taken. Let’s go.”

They proceeded to make their way out of the garage and onto the dark streets, the traffic relatively light in the early morning hours. While Happy focused on the road, Peter made himself comfortable on Wade’s thigh. He glanced out the nearest window, but couldn’t see much beyond the sides of buildings and the passing streetlights. 

Curious as to where they were going, Peter tapped Wade’s leg to get his attention. “Wade,” he asked when the man looked down, “who is your friend that we’re going to stay with? Have I met him before?”

Wade shook his head. “Naw, I haven’t introduced you guys yet.”

“Why not?”

“‘Cause me and him had a bit of a falling out last year. I guess blowing up someone’s place of business is a deal breaker, as far as friendships go.”

“You blew up his business?!” Peter shouted, only to shrink in on himself when he remembered that they weren’t alone. He snuck a peek at Happy, then waved apologetically when he saw the other man’s eyes watching him in the rearview mirror.

“It was an accident!” Wade exclaimed with a childish huff. “And there was only major damage to, like, one or two rooms, _max_. Weasel was just being a baby.”

Peter turned back to Wade, startled. “Weasel?” he repeated curiously, his wings perking up behind him. “I didn’t know you had animal friends!” he gasped, excited at the prospect of playing with something other than a pigeon or squirrel. 

Wade’s answering cackle was unexpected. “No, no, Baby Boy, ‘Weasel’ is just a nickname,” the hero said, flapping his hand at Peter playfully. “His real name is Jack, and he’s a human, through-and-through. Though I guess it would be pretty cool if he was an actual weasel.”

Peter’s enthusiasm was somewhat diminished by Wade's correction. “Oh,” he said, blushing slightly. 

“Yeah, sorry to burst your adorable bubble there, Petey. But don’t worry, I think you two will get along great.”

Peter lifted his head with renewed interest. “You do?” 

Wade gave an affirmative hum. “Yep! You’re both super nerds when it comes to technology. In fact, Weasel used to make all sorts of goodies for me, back before that unfortunate bombing incident. Who knows? Maybe he can show you some of his latest projects while we're there.”

Peter perked up at the prospect of tinkering with something new. “Really? You think he’d let me see his work?” 

Wade’s smile was blinding. “Really, really.”

Peter grinned and held up a hand, giggling when Wade gave him a single-digit high-five. “Awesome!” he cried, pumping his fist in the air. “I can’t wait to meet him!”


	18. Weasel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! And stuff happens, sorta! I'm so excited! :D
> 
> For those of you wondering, I've decided that I will add a sex scene or two in this story. I was initially going to post it separately as a side piece, but decided to just keep it with the original fic. A sex scene won't be showing up for another 2-3 chapters or so (probably), so until then, I'll keep the rating at T. But once you see that E slapped on here, you'll know what's up. 
> 
> Also, this has nothing to do with the story per se, but I just gotta say that a lot has happened during the writing of this fic. Some of you may be aware that my father passed away last November, but I didn't mention that my grandmother on my father's side also passed away in April of 2017. Not only that, but my grandmother on my mother's side recently passed away in early September 2017. I've also been affected by two hurricanes, which in itself is pretty phenomenal. 
> 
> So yeah, the last 12 months have been weird for me. Here's hoping the next 12 are a bit more blasé.

Happy drove them through the streets of New York, the tall, pristine skyscrapers of downtown Manhattan giving way to more derelict buildings and run-down businesses the further they traveled. Peter had settled atop the back of Wade’s chair early into the trip so he could get a better view of the city, his sleepy gaze flitting from the muted blurs of passing cars to the rushed figures of pedestrians just starting their morning commutes. Every so often Peter would comment on a new restaurant he saw or a landmark they hadn’t yet visited, and Wade was quick to promise that they’d return to this area once the heat from SHIELD had died down. 

During the trip Wade took the time to contact Emily, letting her and Ellie know that he and Peter were both okay. He put the phone on speaker so Peter could chat with Ellie about his mission, the little girl ecstatic to get information about his top secret SHIELD assignment. Emily wasn’t as excited to hear about Peter’s exploits, and apologized profusely to the fairy for SHIELD’s deception. Peter assured her that it wasn’t her fault, and that there wasn’t any way she could have known what SHIELD was planning. Her responding hum didn’t sound all that convinced, but by the end of the call Peter felt that he’d managed to alleviate some of her guilt, so he considered it a small victory. 

It was some forty minutes later before they reached their destination, the sun having just begun to rise over the city. Happy pulled the car over at Wade’s insistence, coming to a stop near the curb outside of a dilapidated apartment complex. The older man glanced beyond the tinted glass of his window at the empty sidewalk, his gaze sliding warily from the front of the building toward the end of the block as though he expected vagabonds to jump from a nearby alley and rush the car. 

Peter could hear Happy muttering to himself as he studied the street, the other man going so far as to turn around in his chair and stretch his neck to get a better look behind them. Peter followed suit, turning his head to study their surroundings with mild curiosity. When he didn’t see anything noteworthy, he returned his gaze to the front of the vehicle, slightly perturbed. 

What was Happy looking for, exactly? To Peter, this appeared like any other lower-income neighborhood of New York - grimy, unnecessarily dark, and home to a worrying number of pests. Sure, it may not look very appealing, especially for someone who was used to working in downtown Manhattan, but that didn’t mean it was particularly dangerous or shady. Peter and Wade had lived in a similar neighborhood for months now and nothing bad had come of it, so he didn’t know what all the fuss was about.

“You sure about this?” Happy asked again, clearly uncomfortable as he settled back into his chair. “I understand that you can take care of yourselves, but I find that it’s best to avoid taking unnecessary risks. You know, ‘don’t tempt fate,’ and so on and so forth.”

“We’ll be fine,” Wade answered, dismissing Happy’s concerns with a jaunty thumbs up and a wide smile. The hero climbed out of his seat and opened the door, sliding out of the back with a grunt and a muffled curse. Wade stood to his full height beside the car and took a moment to stretch out his limbs, his joints cracking loudly. He gave an appreciative moan at the sensation, popping his neck for good measure, before turning to hunch down and lean his upper body inside.

“You comin’?” Wade asked, offering Peter his palm.

Peter nodded in return, getting to his feet stiffly and flexing his wings to try and get the blood flowing back to his limbs. He mimicked the hero’s earlier movements, stretching his arms high above his head as he yawned. “Is this where your friend lives?” he questioned in a low tone, walking across the back of the chair until he could reach Wade’s outstretched hand. 

Wade hummed noncommittally, grinning as Peter hopped onto his palm. He waited for the fairy to get situated before extricating himself from the backseat once more, his other arm moving to slam the door shut behind them with a snap of his wrist. Wade brought Peter close to his chest and held the fairy carefully while he shuffled back on the sidewalk, putting a few steps between himself and the curb. Once he was satisfied, Wade turned to Happy and offered the man another bright smile and a parting wave.

Happy rolled down his window and leaned his head out, his gaze roving up and down the sidewalk while a frown marred his features. His examination eventually ended at Wade, the hero’s jovial expression growing irritated when Happy started in on yet another speech about the virtues of being cautious while in dangerous neighborhoods. Peter couldn’t help but grin behind his hand as Happy continued to talk, the fairy’s gaze glued to a very unamused Wade.

The slight wave of Wade’s hand steadily grew into an obnoxious flapping of his entire arm the longer Happy spoke, the hero clearly done with the man’s overzealous mothering. It took a couple seconds for Happy to catch on that his warnings were falling on deaf ears, but when it finally happened he was quick to snap his mouth closed and narrow his eyes at Wade. After a silent moment of observing the hero’s ridiculous flailing, Happy turned back to the road, rolled up his window, and peeled away from the curb without a backwards glance.

Peter barely managed to hold back his laughter until Happy had rounded the corner, the fairy covering his mouth with his hands in an attempt to stifle the noise. Wade shared in his amusement, the man’s high-pitched giggles joining Peter’s muffled snorts. The two settled down when they noticed curious onlookers peeking at them from the buildings across the street, the added attention helping to sober them up.

“Alrighty, now that Happy Bear is out of our hair, let’s head to Weasel’s place,” Wade said, pulling out his phone with his free hand.

Peter regarded Wade with renewed excitement. “Does he live there?” he asked, pointing at the dilapidated building over Wade’s shoulder.

“Pfft, hell no!” Wade answered, bringing the phone to his ear. “You think I’d actually let Tony Roma’s glorified babysitter know where we’re gonna be hiding out?”

Peter didn’t have a chance to comment as Wade’s attention was quickly stolen by whoever he was calling. Peter listed to the hero coordinate their pick-up and drop-off with what sounded like a taxi service, Wade’s tone authoritative as he barked demands to the person on the other end of the line. He hung up after relaying their current location, followed closely by a threat of unnamed violence should the cabby not arrive within the next 15 minutes.

Wade smiled down at Peter and shoved his phone back in its designated pouch, his gaze then moving to scan the street around them. “What d’ya say we grab a bite to eat while we wait, huh?” he asked, pointing to a cafe at the end of the block. 

Peter’s belly rumbled at the thought of food, the few bites of the parfait he’d had earlier hardly enough to carry him through the rest of the morning. “Alright,” he acquiesced, adding, “but keep an eye out for the taxi. We don’t want to miss it.”

The two traipsed across the desolate streets to the cafe where they ate a quick meal under the wide-eyed stares of the employees. Wade ordered enough food for four people, and by the time the taxi pulled up to the curb outside, their bellies were full and over half of the food had been devoured. Wade tossed a wad of cash on the tabletop for the bill and got to his feet, Peter flying close behind as they made their way to the exit. 

“Later, citizens!” Wade hollered in parting, slamming the door shut with a clatter.

Peter followed Wade to the cab, hovering nearby while the hero relayed an address to the cabbie. Then they ducked into the backseat and got comfortable for what thankfully turned out to be a much shorter ride than the first, this one only taking them about ten blocks up the street and around the corner. When it was over Peter breathed a sigh of relief, his eyelids drooping tiredly as he stared up at the equally rickety apartment complex from his perch on Wade’s shoulder. 

He listened while his friend paid their fare and the taxi drove off, the sound fading gradually as Wade turned and entered the run-down building. Once inside the hero immediately headed toward the stairs and began to ascend up to the higher floors, the heavy thudding of his boots echoing in the stairwell. They climbed several flights until they reached the sixth, then wandered down the hall and came to a stop at their apparent destination, apartment number 6H.

“Is this it?” Peter asked uncertainly, twisting around to take in the derelict decor of the hallway. He wasn’t sure what to make of the apartment building, but one thing was for sure - it certainly wasn’t as nice as Avengers Tower.

Wade nodded. “Yep, this is the nerd cave. Let’s see if anyone’s home.” He rapped his knuckles on the door, the sound jarring in the relative quiet of the hall. When there was no immediate answer, he knocked again, this time much louder. 

A few seconds of silence passed before they heard movement on the other side - muffled shuffling followed by the click of the lock. Peter perked up as the door opened, his polite smile morphing into a shocked gasp as a gun barrel was leveled on Wade’s face. 

“No one’s home, asshole!” the man behind the gun growled, his eyes hard beneath his thick glasses. He made for a pretty threatening image, though probably even more so if it weren’t for his threadbare plaid pajama bottoms and ratty Pink Floyd t-shirt. 

Wade grasped the barrel of the gun with lightning speed, pushing it to the side and away from his face. “For fuck’s sake, calm down! It’s just me.”

The man glared at Wade, the muscles in his arm straining to pull his weapon from the hero’s strong grip. Peter watched his gaze flit across Wade’s face, recognition flashing in the other’s eyes shortly before rage overtook his features. 

“YOU FUCKER!” the man screamed, throwing a sloppy punch at Wade’s face with his free hand. Peter jerked away from the attack in surprise and flew from Wade’s shoulder, hovering nearby and wringing his hands as he watched the chaos unfold.

“Whoa, Weasel, buddy, chill out!” Wade shouted back, grappling with his incensed former friend.

“ _Buddy?!_ ” the man, Weasel, snarled, his face red and blotchy. “You blew up my bar! Buddies don’t blow up each other’s bars, jackass!”

Wade wrestled Weasel against the doorjamb and held him there bodily, the two still fighting over the gun. “I said I was sorry, didn’t I!?”

“‘Sorry’ doesn’t replace what you destroyed! That was my livelihood, you fuck!”

“Pfffft, don’t kid yourself,” Wade grunted, finally managing to slap the weapon from Weasel’s grasp. “You made more from arms dealing than you ever did at Sister Margaret’s.”

Weasel’s eyes were wild. “That still didn’t give you the right to ruin it!” he yelled vehemently, wiggling and kicking at Wade’s legs in an attempt to escape. 

Wade gripped Weasel by the front of his shirt and slammed him back into the wall, the smaller man grunting at the impact. When Weasel made to continue his struggling, Wade did it again, repeating the action over and over until his former friend eventually gave in and slumped against the faded wallpaper, visibly seething.

Wade took a step back and to the side to snatch up Weasel’s fallen weapon, holstering it behind his back for safe keeping. “You good now?” he asked, hands settling on his hips.

Weasel breathed heavily from his spot against the wall, his disheveled bangs hanging in his eyes. He shot Wade a dirty look as he straightened up to his full height, still a good head shorter than the hero. He made a show of fixing his clothes and patting down his hair, then tilted his chin up and snorted rudely in Wade’s direction. “I’ll be better once your fugly ass is off my doorstep.”

“Great!” Wade said, seeming to ignore Weasel’s words as he brought his hands together in an excited clap. “Glad to hear it. Now how about you invite us in, huh? I’d hate to have to emasculate you any further in front of the hot chick from 6F.”

Weasel’s eyes widened dramatically and he jerked his head to the side, his breath catching when he saw that they had gathered quite the audience during their scuffle. Peter followed his gaze, noting that almost every other door in the hallway was now open and people were sticking their heads out to see who was causing a commotion. One particularly attractive woman two doors down was watching them with overt curiosity, her attention jumping between Wade and Weasel.

“ _Shit!_ " Weasel muttered irritably, clenching his jaw as his attention turned back to Wade. "Ugh, fine, get your ass in here!” he ordered, gesturing for the hero to follow him into his apartment. Wade grinned and did as requested, staying close to Weasel’s back as the shorter man disappeared into the dimly lit entrance of his apartment. Wade paused in the doorway just long enough to make sure that Peter had fluttered inside before closing and locking the door behind them.

“Nice shithole you got here, Weas,” Wade noted, making his way further into what looked to be the split kitchen/living area. “A real classy dump.”

Weasel looked very unimpressed with Wade’s colorful complements. “The only ‘dump’ I care about is the one you took on my life.”

“Your life was a dump way before I entered the picture.”

“What the fuck do you want, Wade?” Weasel demanded, leaning against the counter that divided his kitchen and living room. “I haven’t seen or heard from you since _the incident_ , and now you show up out of nowhere and embarrass me in front of 6F. Why?”

Wade picked invisible lint off the front of his suit. “I need to lay low for awhile. My apartment isn’t an option and my safehouses aren’t currently fit for human habitation.”

Weasel’s smile was vicious. “Last I checked you weren’t exactly human, so I don’t see why that would be much of a problem.”

“Oh, it’s not a problem for _me_ , but I want to make sure that _Peter_ is comfortable.”

Weasel shot him a dubious look. “Who’s Peter?”

“Um, that would be me,” Peter spoke up hesitantly from his spot near the front door, raising a hand in greeting when Weasel’s gaze shot to him. “It’s, uh...it’s nice to meet you, Mr. Weasel.”

Weasel blinked slowly, his eyes appearing unnaturally large behind his thick lenses. After a moment he removed his glasses, cleaned them delicately with the hem of his t-shirt, then replaced them and stared at Peter some more. Another few seconds of silence passed before Weasel spoke again.

“Wade, what exactly am I looking at here?”

“The question isn’t ‘what’ you’re looking at, it’s ‘who’ you’re looking at. And the answer is ‘Peter.’ Now say, ‘Hi, Peter!’”

“Hi, Peter,” Weasel parroted, still looking stunned. He took a step closer and flicked on the hallway light, the sudden brightness blinding Peter momentarily.

“Ah, jeez! Warn a guy, would ya?” the fairy grumbled, rubbing his eyes. 

“Sorry,” Weasel answered, though it didn’t sound particularly genuine. He came to a stop right beneath Peter, squinting to get a better look. “You have wings,” he noted eventually, adjusting his glasses. “In fact, if I had to put a label to it, I’d say you were a fairy.”

“Got it in one!” Peter answered, giving Weasel a thumbs up. 

“How, though?” Weasel wondered aloud, his hands raising in an aborted motion to reach for Peter. “I didn’t think that fairies were anything more than a myth.”

Peter shrugged. “Well, I’m here, so...I guess not.”

“Yeah, it sure seems that way,” Weasel responded in a slightly awed voice, smiling for the first time since they’d arrived. “Pretty cool.”

“Ain’t he, though?” Wade cooed, butting in casually. He grabbed Weasel by the upper arm and herded him into the living room, gesturing for Peter to follow with his free hand. “Petey here has been rooming with me for awhile,” Wade started to explain, forcing an irritated Weasel onto the couch, “but right now SHIELD is on my ass for ruining some of their more diabolical plans, so we can’t hang out at my apartment. And as previously discussed, my safehouses aren’t really an option at this point.” 

Weasel glared at Wade when the hero sat on the other end of the couch, his tone guarded when he pressed, “So…?”

“So I said to myself, I said, ‘Wade, who do you know that would be willing to help you in your time of need?’ And that’s when I remembered my ol’ pal Weasel.” Here he reached over to slap a hand on Weasel’s shoulder, the leather of his gloves creaking with the strength of his grip. “I figured, since you’re my buddy and all, that you’d let us stay here for awhile until the heat dies down. What’dya say, huh? Sound good?”

Weasel flinched and tried unsuccessfully to roll his shoulder and dislodge Wade’s hand. “Actually that sounds like the seventh level of hell.” He gasped when Wade’s fingers tightened. 

Wade leaned his weight into the touch, his muscles bulging with the strain. “Aw, come on. Don’t be that way. Help a friend out, would ya?” 

“Ow, ow, okay! You can stay!” Weasel finally yelled, wincing when Wade released him. He gripped his shoulder and hissed through his teeth, rubbing at the spot irritably. “You could have broken my shoulder, you dick.”

“Don’t worry,” Peter cut in smoothly, floating down to land on the back of the couch. “Wade wouldn’t actually hurt you.”

Weasel scoffed and continued to massage his shoulder. “And why would you say that?”

“Because he’s a hero,” Peter declared with a firm nod, looking pointedly at Wade.

Weasel’s face twisted into an expression of utter bafflement. He glanced at the hero in question, who tensed up at the sudden attention. “He called you a hero.”

“Yeah, what of it?” Wade growled, the pure venom in his voice catching Peter by surprise.

“It’s just…” Weasel started, pausing when Wade leaned forward, the eyes of his masked focused on his former friend. Weasel twitched at the scrutiny, then appeared to think better of his line of questioning and chose to drop the conversation entirely. “So,” he said instead, hands clasped in front of him, “shall I show you to your room?”

The rest of Weasel’s apartment was just as drab as his living room, with the paint chipping off the walls in some spots while the floorboards creaked ominously underneath their feet. Peter flew close to Wade’s head to avoid the cavalcade of cobwebs that clung to the ceiling, his eyes watering as the men’s footsteps kicked up dust.

They ended up settling in Weasel’s spare room. It took a bit of work to get situated, however, as there were boxes of junk and computer parts all over the floor and stacked on top of the lumpy twin-sized bed. Weasel helped move them out of the way after a few motivational words (i.e. threats) from Wade, and together they both managed to make it somewhat liveable. 

Once they’d finished, Weasel wiped his hands on his pants and headed for the door. “I’ll be in the next room,” he said, grasping the knob and stepping out into the hallway. He pulled the door toward him until it was only slightly ajar, sticking his head through the remaining space and nodding toward Wade as he stated, “If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to go get it yourself. You’re a grown-ass man.” Then he retreated, closing the door softly behind him. 

Peter shifted in his spot at the head of the bed, removing his shoes and stretching to place them on the shoddily built nightstand so they were out of the way. He then glanced over at Wade who was peering through the bars of the only window in the room, the muscles in his back tight with tension. 

“He still seems angry with you.”

Wade gave a derisive snort and turned away from the window to come and join Peter atop the comforter. “He’ll get over it,” he stated confidently, removing his mask and the many weapons on his person. He offered Peter a stiff smile. “Believe me, this isn’t the first time we’ve had a disagreement during our long and harried friendship. Everything will be fine.”

Peter worried his bottom lip as he gave a curt nod, not sure if Wade was being too optimistic about earning Weasel’s forgiveness. The other man certainly came across as abrasive and irritable, and if his initial reaction to Wade’s arrival was any indication, he wasn’t the type to forgive and forget easily. Then again, Wade shared a similar relationship with the majority of the Avengers, and he worked with them on an almost weekly basis. They even got along most of the time, the occasional harsh joke and comment aside. 

Peter cocked his head thoughtfully. Huh. When he thought about it in that perspective, maybe Wade was right. Maybe everything _would_ work out. After all, Wade was a master at dodging negative social repercussions through sheer force of will. Perhaps this was yet another relationship that could be saved by the man’s mysterious charms. 

Peter sure hoped so, anyway.

But the issue of repairing Wade’s shaky friendship with Weasel would have to wait. In the meantime, all Peter could focus on was his building fatigue. Now that the excitement of the last 10 hours or so had died down, Peter’s exhaustion was hitting him like a freight train. He was barely able to remain conscious while Wade moved about the room, stashing weapons under the mattress and near the headboard so they were within easy reach. 

“Just incase,” he explained, though Peter wasn’t entirely sure what Wade was expecting to happen. SHIELD surely wouldn’t come busting into the room like a SWAT team from one of those t.v. police dramas, right? 

Peter scoffed at his own imagination. Of course that wouldn’t happen. The very idea of it was just silly.

When all of Wade’s weapons were in their proper hiding places, the hero walked about the room to double check that the window was locked and they had a clear escape path from the doorway into the hall. He muttered to his boxes during the entire process, Peter only able to pick up enough of his words to decipher that Wade was fortifying the room in case of an attack during the night. 

Peter rolled his eyes. Okay, this was getting ridiculous. 

“Wade, we’re going to be fine,” Peter assured him tiredly, his eyelids getting heavier by the second. “Stop worrying and come to bed.”

Wade came to a stop next to the nightstand and flashed Peter a sharp grin. “Hold your horses, I’m almost done. I gotta go talk to Weasel for a minute about the security features in this place,” he said, walking to open the door. He threw a quick, “B-R-B!” over his shoulder, then disappeared from sight.

Peter sighed heavily but didn’t make any further comment, instead reclining on the stained and mildewy pillow to wait for Wade. His nose wrinkled in disgust as he tried to get comfortable, the odd smell from the sheets and pillowcase making his nose tingle. Honestly, if Peter was any less exhausted he’d have refused to sleep here tonight. He definitely needed to talk to Weasel about getting some clean linens once the man had calmed down somewhat.

Peter must have dozed off after Wade left, because it felt like one moment to the next when he was startled awake by the _clomp-clomp_ noise of Wade’s boots falling to the floor. 

“Sorry,” the hero apologized in a loud whisper, the sounds of shifting leather soon following as he removed the rest of his clothes and deposited them beside the bed with his shoes. Peter blushed when the man was left in nothing but his birthday suit, his bare skin illuminated by the early-morning light filtering in through the window. “Hope you don’t mind if I sleep in my skivvies. My jammies are back at the apartment.”

“I-it’s alright,” Peter stuttered awkwardly, covering his warm cheeks with his hands. Jeez, you’d think he’d be used to seeing Wade nude by now, but nope - it still got him blushing up a storm. Peter tried hard to keep his ogling to a minimum, his eyes only wavering from his friend’s face once or twice to dip ‘below the belt’ while Wade clamored into bed. 

Peter swallowed harshly. “Yep, everything is a-okay.” 

He waited for Wade to burrow under the covers, then crawled over to cuddle up next to the hero’s muscular neck, burying his heated face against Wade’s skin.

“Night,” Wade cooed after Peter was settled, nuzzling the fairy with his cheek. He gave a soft sigh when Peter planted a lingering kiss to his jaw. 

“Goodnight.”


	19. Surprise Visit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! I originally intended to post it on Halloween, but I ate some bad pizza and got sick as hell, so that slowed things down a bit. x.x
> 
> Happy late Halloween!

The next morning found Peter alone, snoozing on the pillow in Weasel’s guest bed. He awoke to the sound of Wade’s voice in the living room, the man clearly yelling at someone. When Peter couldn’t hear any response to Wade’s words, he realized his friend must be on the phone.

“I don’t give a shit about your protocols,” Wade snarled, the persistent thumping of his boots suggesting that he was pacing around the room. “I did what I had to do and now SHIELD has to deal with the consequences of their actions.”

Peter perked up at the mention of SHIELD. What was the other person saying to Wade? Obviously they didn’t know where he and Peter were, or else they’d have come in person, right? Peter assumed as much, since it seemed like the most SHIELD-y way to handle things. 

“Come on, you know better than that,” Wade continued, his tone mocking. “Even a novice knows how to secure a cell phone signal. Your band of monkeys won’t find me _that_ easily.” He paused for several seconds, presumably to listen to the response. His sudden burst of laughter caught Peter off guard. 

“Like hell I am! I don’t have to do shit for you _or_ your boss. Contrary to what you people may think, SHIELD’s influence isn’t all encompassing. Peter and I could pack up and disappear at anytime and you fuckers wouldn’t know the first place to look.”

Silence followed once again while the person spoke on the other end of the line. Peter took the opportunity to sit up and stretch, his back arching sharply as he flexed his wings. The bright sunlight coming in through the window alerted him that he’d been sleeping for several hours. Peter yawned and glanced around the room, noting the open bedroom door and Wade’s absent  weapons. 

Peter rubbed the sleep from his eyes before getting to his feet and smoothing down his rumpled shirt, his head turning toward the sound of Wade’s voice. He listened to the hero resume his argument with the SHIELD representative, the conversation clearly going nowhere fast. Peter couldn’t really say he expected anything less from Wade - his friend made it a point to be as irritating over the phone as humanly possible. Wade had tried to explain that it was just his way of getting people to drop their guard, but Peter still didn’t see the need for it. 

Peter hopped off the bed and fluttered out into the hall, deciding that it would probably be best if he joined Wade in the living room. At least then he could try and keep his friend from saying or doing anything too drastic. He found the hero marching back and forth across the shared kitchen and living space, dressed in his suit sans mask. Wade had his phone pressed close to his ear, his expression marred by a scowl. Weasel was standing off to the side in the kitchen, quietly assembling a sandwich.

Wade barely acknowledged Peter as the fairy settled atop the back of the stained couch, instead electing to traipse over to one of the room’s windows and glare outside while he barked threats into the phone. 

“If we’re going to meet it’ll be on my terms, and only when I say so. Capische?” He went silent again, his expression dropping into a sneer at whatever the other person was saying. “He better not. I’m warning you, Coulson, if any SHIELD agent darkens my door without my permission, I’ll put ‘em in the ground.”

Peter frowned after hearing Coulson’s name. He hadn’t spoken to the agent in quite some time, but as far as Peter was concerned they’d always been on good terms. However, from what Wade had said during his rescue attempt (and from how their current conversation was going), it seemed that Coulson was somehow involved in this mess. Whether he had been entangled in it from the beginning or had simply been brought in after the fact was still a mystery, though.

But that was a question for another time. What worried Peter the most right now wasn’t Coulson’s actions, but rather it was Wade’s threat toward SHIELD. Or more specifically, any SHIELD agent bold enough to drop by.

Peter knew what his friend meant when he talked about putting people “in the ground,” but what he wasn’t sure about was whether Wade was being sincere. The man had already shown that he was willing to use violence toward SHIELD, and he’d even admitted outright that he’d do what he felt was necessary in order to protect those he cared about. Peter was well aware that he fell into that category, so now the only question remaining was how far Wade would go to protect him from any perceived threats.

The fairy’s troubling thoughts scattered when Wade suddenly jerked the phone away from his ear and hung up with a huff. Peter straightened in his seat and looked up at Wade anxiously, asking, “What’s going on? What did Coully say?”

Wade grumbled to himself as he shuffled through the myriad of boxes and junk lying around Weasel’s livingroom floor. He plopped down on the couch in front of Peter and tipped his head back so he could see the fairy out of the corner of his eye. “He’s getting heat from ol’ Cyclops. Apparently the big guy wants us to have a sit-down at SHIELD headquarters so we can get a proper tongue lashing. And not the fun kind.”

Weasel chuckled around a mouthful of sandwich, his eyes bright as he walked into the room and sat on the coffee table facing Wade. “You weren’t kidding when you said you needed a place to lay low. What exactly did you do to earn SHIELD’s ire this time?”

Wade waved him off. “A little property damage and a wee bit of violent intimidation. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

Weasel hummed and took another bite of his food. “And how do you play into this?” he asked, directing his gaze toward the fairy.

Peter smiled bashfully and tucked his hands behind his head. “Um, well…” he started, glancing at Wade while he gathered his thoughts. “I guess the short answer would be that they lied in order to get me on a mission.”

Weasel blinked and paused in his chewing. “What kind of mission?” he asked through a mouthful of bread.

Wade answered before Peter could speak. “Just your average in-and-out venture,” he said, reaching up a hand to rub his thumb over Peter’s leg affectionately. He smiled when Peter returned the gesture, running his smaller hand along Wade’s gloved fingers. “SHIELD wanted information from a HYDRA facility up north, and decided it would be a great opportunity to test Petey’s skills,” Wade continued, a frown marring his features. “All without running it by me first, of course.”

Weasel finished off his sandwich in several large bites, taking a moment to swallow. “I take it you weren’t a fan of their plan.”

Wade snorted and dropped his hand, turning to his former friend. “Nope, hence the previously stated property damage and subsequent threats of bodily harm.”

“You always were a ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ kinda guy,” Weasel chuckled, wiping crumbs from his hands while he stood. “Stay classy, man.”

Wade threw a mock salute at Weasel’s back as the other disappeared down the hallway and into his room, the door closing behind him with a soft _click_.

Peter walked along the back of the couch and laid a hand on Wade’s head in order to get his attention. “What are we going to do about Coulson and SHIELD?” 

The hero heaved a deep sigh. “I’m not sure, Baby Boy,” he admitted, smoothing a hand over his rough scalp. “Let me think about it and I’ll get back to you.”

As it turned out, Wade had quite a bit to ponder over the next few days. Not only did he receive numerous follow-up calls from Coulson, but he also heard from practically everyone on the Avengers’ roster, including a very unimpressed Steve Rogers. (Natasha was peculiarly silent on the issue, while Bruce stayed out of the argument entirely, for obvious reasons.)

From what Peter could parse from the one-sided conversations he overheard, the entire Avengers team had been pulled in for a debriefing concerning Wade’s ‘objectionable behavior.’  This of course included a loose interpretation of SHIELD’s involvement in the events, which made it seem as though SHIELD hadn’t been entirely responsible for the more unfavorable parts of the mission. 

Wade did his best to smooth things over with the other heroes, his job becoming easier once Tony stepped in to clear the air. To everyone’s surprise but Peter’s, the engineer loudly defended Wade’s actions, coming forward to inform them all that he’d ‘just happened’ to stumble across a few unsavory reports and memos concerning the mission hidden in SHIELD’s database. 

Suffice to say that Fury was, well... _furious_ at Tony’s brazen disregard for privacy laws, but his ire was swiftly brushed aside by Steve, who was appalled at SHIELD’s complete disregard for Peter’s safety. The rest of the team followed suit, informing Wade that they’d be pressuring SHIELD to ‘make things right,’ whatever that entailed.

Coulson’s phone calls slowed down a little, after that.

When the shitstorm had subsided somewhat (Wade’s words), he and Peter were able to relax and enjoy their mini-vacation in Weasel’s dump of an apartment. Though to be fair, the other man did try to make it more hospitable (at Peter’s request). He restocked the fridge with actual food instead of t.v. dinners and vodka, and even changed the sheets on the guest bed. Weasel also agreed to show Peter some of his projects, which eventually led to them staying up late into the night talking shop while Wade stayed in the livingroom binge-watching old Godzilla movies. 

Peter ended up having a much better time at Weasel’s apartment than he’d expected. Sure, it wasn’t the Avengers’ Tower, but he still learned quite a bit about multiple topics. These ranged from complicated subjects such as the entire set-up for New York’s power grid, to lesser, more nuanced ones, like how to build a pipe bomb from scratch. (Wade was especially excited about that lesson, going so far as to throw in his own suggestions and tips while a perturbed Weasel stood nearby, groaning comically.)

However, like all vacations, it eventually came to an end. Not with the violent intrusion of a group of SHIELD agents as Peter had imagined, but rather with an innocuous knock at the door in the early morning hours of the fifth day of their extended stay. 

Weasel was the one to answer it (since it was his apartment and all), while Wade (fully suited) and Peter (fully sleep rumpled) hid behind the sofa to eavesdrop. They peeked over the top of the couch to watch the lanky man approach the door, his weapon at the ready as he peered through the peephole. An oppressive silence fell over the apartment while Wade and Peter waited for his reaction, the seconds dragging on until they felt like hours. 

As it turned out, the reaction they’d been waiting for was far less dramatic than they’d assumed. Because instead of a gun battle or a shout of alarm, the scraggly man just gave a derisive snort, hid his gun behind his back, and wrenched open the door to reveal none other than Agent Coulson standing in the hall. The agent wore his usual pristine suit and serene smile, his badge held aloft for Weasel to see.

“Good morning, Mr. Hammer,” Coulson greeted cheerfully. “May I speak to Mr. Wilson?”

Peter gasped at the unexpected arrival, lifting himself up onto the couch to get a better look at their guest. A rush of confusing emotions filled his chest when he confirmed that it was indeed Coulson, betrayal and uncertainty being the most persistent. Peter wasn’t sure how to feel about the man, considering that he still didn’t know the extent of Coulson’s involvement in his mission with SHIELD. Perhaps it would be pertinent to wait until such information became clear before rushing to rekindle their friendship.  

Peter climbed higher over the couch and ignored Wade’s half-hearted attempts to get him to duck back down, instead refocusing his attention on Weasel. He watched the man shift in place at the door, his finger resting on the trigger of his hidden weapon. 

“Not sure who you’re referring to,” Weasel said, sounding far more confident than he looked. “I know plenty of ‘Wilsons,’ but I haven’t roomed with anyone by that name for quite some time.”

Coulson hummed and slid his badge back inside the inner pocket of his suit jacket. “Actually, Mr. Hammer, I think you know very well which person I’m referring to.”

“Do I, now?” Weasel asked blithely, his grip tightening on his gun. “Why do you say that?”

“May I come in?” Coulson requested in lieu of an answer.

“No.”

“I see,” Coulson said, smile still in place. “Alright then, I’ll keep this brief.” He put his hands behind his back in a show of nonchalance, though Peter doubted Coulson wasn’t ready to react at a moment’s notice if Weasel pulled his gun. “I know Wade Wilson is here, and I know he brought Peter with him. We’ve checked all of his other haunting grounds and haven’t found any sign of either himself or Peter.”

Weasel snorted and shifted again. “And what makes you think he’s here?”

“Intuition,” Coulson replied easily. “You, Mr. Hammer, are far enough removed from Deadpool’s list of current contacts that most people would consider you an estranged acquaintance of his. And after a perfunctory examination of your last encounter with Mr. Wilson, it is fair to say that most agencies would believe your relationship ended quite sometime ago. I, however, know better.” 

Coulson paused, his lips upturned in a pleasant grin. He met Weasel’s gaze freely, while his posture remained relaxed. “Now, may I please come in? I merely wish to speak to Mr. Wilson and Peter, if that’s alright.”

Weasel’s shoulders tensed. He remained in place, one hand on the doorknob and one on his weapon, clearly unsure what to do. Thankfully he was saved from making a tough decision by Wade, who chose that moment to give a long-winded sigh and step out from behind the couch.

“Let him in, Weas,” he grumbled, standing to his full height with his guns drawn at his sides. “This shit was bound to happen at some point, so it might as well be now.”

“Thank you,” Coulson replied, sliding past a stunned Weasel to enter the apartment. 

Weasel rolled his eyes in a huff and slammed the door shut. “If you were going to invite him in anyway then why the hell did you make me play gatekeeper?” he asked, glaring at Wade from across the room.

“Because you’re adorable when you’re trying to be threatening,” Wade joked, though his tone was more strained than humorous. He was watching Coulson with rapt attention, his head turning to track the agent’s progress from the door to the living room. Wade’s body stiffened the closer Coulson came to the couch, and Peter found himself worrying that his friend would do something drastic.

Time for a distraction.

“Good morning,” Peter called out with a friendly wave, his wings fluttering behind his back as he moved to stand on the back of the couch. “It’s nice to see you again.”

Coulson offered him a warm smile in return. “It’s nice to see you, too, Peter. I apologize that the circumstances aren’t ideal.” He hesitated then, head tilting curiously as he studied Peter. His lips twitched upward and his eyes crinkled in amusement. “Nice glasses. They look good on you.”

“O-oh, thank you,” Peter stuttered, blushing slightly. Oh right, he hadn’t seen Coulson in quite some time. “Tony made them for me.”

“A kind gesture,” Coulson said with a nod. He looked toward Wade, his expression becoming tight. “I’m glad to see that Tony has been such a good friend to you both.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Wade bit out, gripping his weapons harshly.

“Nothing, I’m merely stating an opinion.”

“And does SHIELD share your opinion?”

“Not particularly,” Coulson said, seeming unperturbed. “All things considered, they’re not very happy with Mr. Stark at the moment.”

Wade shifted his weight and glanced to the side in an attempt at nonchalance, though Peter could tell that he was keeping an eye firmly on Coulson. “Oh? What’d he do, air out SHIELD’s dirty laundry?”

“No, nothing like that. Though he is suspected of having some type of involvement in a recent incident. Perhaps you’re aware of it?”

Wade pretended to be in deep thought, hemming and hawing over the question. Peter watched from his perch on the back of the couch, beginning to grow anxious now that the topic had circled back around to his failed SHIELD mission. From what Coulson had said, SHIELD had come to the exact conclusions that Wade predicted they would - that Tony had something to do with Wade’s last minute rescue attempt and their following disappearance. 

Peter released a nervous breath. Wade’s intuition had been spot on. Thank goodness they hadn’t spent the week with Tony, otherwise Coulson’s surprise visit may have taken a less-friendly turn.

“Hm, no, I can’t think of anything Tony’s done recently to get SHIELD’s panties in a bunch,” Wade eventually answered, obviously playing dumb. 

Coulson’s expression remained calm. “SHIELD has reason to believe that he aided you in sabotaging a mission.”

“Which mission? As far as I’m aware, I completed my assignment as ordered and finished the clean-up without any problems. You saying I missed something?”

“I’m not referring to your mission in Central America, Wade,” Coulson murmured, the uncharacteristic use of Wade’s first name catching Peter off guard. If Wade noticed, then he didn’t seem to care. 

“Which one are you referring to?” he asked, tone low and dangerous.

“You know which assignment I’m talking about.”

“Then say it.”

“Wade-”

“ _Say it_ ,” Wade growled, taking a step toward Coulson. The agent didn’t flinch, though his mouth tightened at the edges. “I wanna hear it straight from your lips. Go ahead, tell me - what was planned and executed under my nose without my approval or knowledge?”

Peter could see Coulson visibly swallow, the man somehow managing to keep his composure. The agent watched Wade carefully, his gaze boring into the white eyes of the hero’s mask. “I know you’re angry, Wade. I feel the same way,” he said, and he sounded sincere. “What SHIELD did to you and Peter wasn’t right, and for that I apologize. If it had been my call, the entire mission would have been done differently, and that includes Peter’s involvement.”

Wade was deathly still. “But it wasn’t your call.”

“No. I wasn’t aware of the mission before you called me demanding to know Peter’s whereabouts, and I wasn’t informed of all the details until after your intervention.”

“Yeah, you said as much before,” Wade muttered, cracking his neck idly. “Still not sure if I 100% believe you, though. Depends on how this scenario plays out,” he finished, gesturing between himself and Coulson.

The agent nodded. “Understandable.” He looked to Peter and he appeared genuinely remorseful when he said, “I am truly sorry about what happened. SHIELD should have been more open and honest with you about their intentions. It was unfair of them to take advantage of your trust.”

Peter wasn’t sure what to say to that, so he went with a simple, “Thank you.”

Coulson’s expression lifted at Peter’s response, a polite smile etched on his lips. “I have something for you,” he started, reaching into his pocket. He moved slowly and deliberately, his eyes sliding over to Wade as he did so. The tension in the air suddenly escalated, growing thick and cloying, the sensation getting under Peter’s skin and putting him on edge. He looked between the two men anxiously, noticing that Weasel was doing the same. Peter knew that one of them would have to intervene if things went sour, but if Weasel’s narrowed eyes and sweaty forehead were any indication, he wasn’t in any shape to be making tough calls. 

Peter sighed internally. Great, it looked like he’d have to be the responsible one. Again. 

Peter stepped forward and coughed into his fist in the hopes that it would capture everyone’s attention. When no one reacted to the slight sound, Peter scowled and repeated the gesture (louder this time), only to get the same lack of response. The fairy huffed and stomped his foot in frustration, his wings fluttering furiously behind him. Angry now, Peter clapped his hands as obnoxiously loud as possible until all eyes finally turned to him.

“Yes, hello, hi!” he shouted, waving as he looked from Wade to Coulson. “You said you had something for me?”

The agent’s lips quirked upward. “Of course, right here.” He pulled his hand from his pocket to reveal what looked like a small pouch, and when he opened his palm, Peter recognized the backpack he’d taken with him on his mission.

“My bag!” he shouted happily, holding his hands out toward Coulson. The man chuckled and came closer, depositing the bag gently into Peter’s arms.

“Courtesy of Agent Mills.”

Peter plopped himself down on the back of the couch and opened the backpack hurriedly. He dug through the contents with an air of excitement, happy to have his clothing and other personal belongings back. When he found that everything was as it should be, Peter turned a blinding smile toward Coulson and hugged the bag close to his chest. 

“Thank you!” he cried, a pleasant warmth spreading through his limbs at the kind gesture. “Please tell Agent Mills that I appreciate it!”

Coulson didn’t have a chance to answer before Wade barrelled into the conversation like a bull in a china shop. 

“Yep, thanks Coulson, great to see you, buddy, but I think we’re done here.” He moved forward and into the agent’s personal space, waving him toward the door with one of his guns. Coulson didn’t budge, however. He stood his ground while he looked first into the eyes of Wade’s mask, then back to Peter. 

“Before I go, I feel the need to inform you both that Director Fury has called for your capture and detainment pending an official SHIELD investigation.”

Wade scoffed. “That won’t be happening.”

“I agree, it’s a bad idea,” Coulson replied, folding his arms together casually. “However, I’m sure that if you were to consent to a sit-down meeting with the Director and Commander Hill, they’d be willing to let you argue your case.”

“As far as I’m concerned there isn’t anything to argue. I did what I had to do and SHIELD can just deal with it.”

“What about Peter?” Coulson asked, straightening his tie. 

“What _about_ Peter?” 

“Doesn’t he have something to say about all of this?” Coulson’s heavy gaze shifted toward the couch to land on Peter. He ignored Wade’s irritated grunt, instead waiting patiently for the fairy’s response.

Peter froze at the sudden attention, curling in on himself when Wade’s eyes fell on him, too. “Um, I don’t know…” Peter mumbled, squirming under their scrutiny. 

“Really? There’s nothing you’d like to discuss regarding your future with SHIELD?” Coulson prompted.

Wade snarled, the atmosphere around him thick with the promise of violence. “Petey doesn’t _have_ a future with SHIELD. Not if I have any say in it.”

Coulson refused to back down, his eyes fixed on the fairy. “What do you want, Peter?” 

“I...I don’t know,” Peter answered, mulling over the question while he picked at his backpack absently. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind helping Wade on his missions from time to time…”

Wade balked at the idea. “No way! You saw what it was like at that facility!” he shouted, throwing his arms out. “I deal with that shit all the time and it’s no place for a precious little cinnamon roll like you!”

“But I want to help!” Peter cried, frustration building as the hero opened his mouth to argue. “I can do it, Wade!” he interrupted, jumping to his feet. “I know I can! Why won’t you let me help you?” he finished with a sniffle, his eyes watering despite himself. Peter wiped them away furiously, irritated at his emotional reaction. Why couldn’t Wade understand?

Wade shook his head, gesturing heatedly. “You’re not ready for that kind of danger!”

“Yes I am!”

“No you’re not!”

“I am!”

“Not!”

“Gentlemen!” Coulson yelled over their bickering, capturing everyone’s attention. He cleared his throat. “If I may step in for a moment.” He sent Peter a meaningful look and offered him an easy smile. “Peter, you’d like to assist Wade on his missions and help keep everyone safe, correct?” 

Peter nodded while Wade started to interject, but Coulson pushed forward and steamrolled over the other’s impending objection. 

“And if such a program were offered, would you be willing to undergo the training necessary in order to prepare you for such assignments?”

Peter’s exultant cry of “Yes, absolutely!” was almost completely drowned out by Wade’s accompanying shout of “Hell to the no!” Peter turned his baleful pout on the hero, but Wade was having none of it. His angry gaze was on Coulson, and his weapons were held steadily at his sides as he stared the other man down.

“Peter is not going to become SHIELD’s tool!” Wade growled in a low tone, his body poised for a fight. “He’ll stay in New York with the Prestons where it’s safe, understood?”

“Wade, please let me do this!” Peter begged, rushing to the end of the couch so he was closer to his friend. “I want to be there for you in case you get into trouble!”

Wade whipped around and leaned over, putting his face next to Peter. “No! How many times do I have to tell you that I _can’t die_? I’ll be fine, Baby Boy. Hell, I’ll be _more_ than fine, but I can’t say the same for you. And I don’t want you dealing with SHIELD anymore!”

“Peter doesn’t have to train with SHIELD,” Coulson intervened, glancing between them. “I’m sure the Avengers would be willing to step in and prepare him for the softer missions.”

That was apparently the wrong thing to say. Wade promptly switched gears from defensive to irate, straightening and raising his guns to point them directly at Coulson’s head. “No one is preparing Petey for anything! Fuck off!” 

Peter saw the agent tense at the threatening gesture, his gaze hardening. The fairy’s heart leapt into his throat, and before he could think better of it, he jumped into the air and flew in between Wade and Coulson, shouting, “No!”

Wade lowered his weapons the moment Peter entered his sights, his entire body jerking as he took an aborted step forward. “Petey, what are you doing?! Don’t ever jump in front of me when I’m about to open a can of whoop ass!”

It took a second for Peter to register Wade’s words over the sound of blood rushing in his ears. He was trembling from stress and anxiety, his body flooded with adrenaline after facing down the barrels of Wade’s weapons. “I won’t let you hurt Coully!” he said, crossing his arms in an attempt to hide the tremors racing through his limbs. “He’s just trying to help!”

Wade snorted and stomped around in a tiny circle, clearly agitated. “Help? With what? Sending you to an early grave?” He stepped up so he was face to face with the fairy, his heated glare evident even through his mask. “I told you, I’m not letting you come with me on missions! End of discussion!”

“Stop babying me!”

“ _End of discussion!_ ”

“Yo, Wade!” Weasel shouted, unperturbed when two sets of eyes glared at him for the interruption.

“What?!” 

Weasel jerked his thumb toward the door. “The SHIELD guy is leaving.” 

Wade and Peter turned to Coulson, who was indeed making his way out of the apartment. The agent paused at the open door, his hand resting lightly on the doorknob. He glanced back at them all, nodding politely at Weasel before looking to Peter and Wade. 

“I’ll leave you two to discuss your next move. Peter, it was wonderful to see you again. Oh, and Wade?” he said, pausing until the hero gave him his full attention. “Remember, Fury wants to bring you in to discuss the situation. If you want it to be on your terms, give me a call.”

Wade snorted as he holstered his weapons. “Awesome. Can’t wait.” He was silent as Coulson turned to exit, then suddenly called out just before the door closed. “Hey, agent!” When Coulson looked back, Wade grinned and said, “Give Nick a message for me, would ya?” before flipping him the double bird.

Coulson chuckled. “I’m sure he’s already received that message loud and clear, Mr. Wilson,” he said, stepping out into the hallway. He shook his head when Wade shot him a smirk, the agent’s eyes alight with humor as he waved in parting. “Have a good day, gentlemen,” he murmured, closing the door softly. 

Silence fell over the apartment, the three occupants listening as Coulson’s footsteps faded down the hallway. When it was clear that the agent was gone, Weasel put his gun away and stepped forward, clapping his hands loudly to draw Peter and Wade out of their lingering funk.

“Whelp, that was fun,” he stated, hands on his hips. “So, breakfast?”


	20. Betrayal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT IZ DONE! 
> 
> This chapter was a beast. A lot's about to happen, so buckle up!

The rest of the morning was a harried affair, with Wade stomping around the apartment in a rage over SHIELD’s continued meddling and at the idea of Peter training for missions. But Peter refused to back down in the face of his friend’s anger, more than willing to match Wade volume for volume when their arguments devolved into shouting matches. Weasel wisely chose to disappear at the first sign of these spats, locking himself in his room and focusing on his work rather than Peter and Wade’s “relationship drama.”

While one of the major disagreements between them was whether Wade should have a sit-down with Director Fury, the main focus of their arguments was Peter’s possible future with SHIELD. Wade loathed the very idea of Peter being involved with the spy agency from here-on out, but Peter felt otherwise. He was determined to train and develop whatever skills necessary in order to aid Wade (and maybe even the Avengers) on their missions, and he refused to back down over Wade’s objections.

“You’re too small and precious!” Wade had declared early on, either uncaring or unaware of how such a statement left Peter feeling useless and incompetent. 

“Ant Man is the same size as me, and you don’t have a problem with _him_ being on missions!” Peter had shouted back, red-faced and fed up with Wade’s excuses.

“He also has an army of ants! Do _you_ have an army of ants? I think _not_!”

And so it continued, on and on until both hero and fairy were forced to step away to prevent saying something they would later regret. Wade disappeared into the guest room while Peter retreated into the far corner of the couch, his heated face smushed between the cushions. He sat there for several long minutes, quietly fuming over Wade’s behavior and the unfairness of the situation. 

Why couldn’t Wade understand that Peter was able to help? That he had skills that may be useful out in the field? SHIELD understood. The Avengers understood. But not Wade. 

Wade’s denial of Peter’s abilities was equal parts infuriating and disheartening. And while Peter could appreciate Wade’s concerns for his safety, the man’s constant mothering had grown old. Peter could take care of himself. He was competent, persistent, and he learned from his mistakes. Even this debacle with SHIELD had taught him an important lesson about trust and blind acceptance, and Peter was confident that he wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. 

But Wade didn’t see things that way, and the man was so stubborn that Peter feared Wade would forever and always view him as the naïve, innocent country-bumpkin that he’d been when they first met. That was one reason why Peter had tried so hard to prove himself while working with Tony and Bruce, who to him were the pinnacle of scientific and mechanical innovation. If Peter could keep up with them, then he could keep up with anyone.

Working with Weasel had also been quite the experience, the greasy nerd having managed to teach Peter a few tricks of his own particular trade that could prove effective under certain circumstances. Granted, their legality was questionable and Peter was unlikely to share them with the Avengers anytime soon, but still useful. 

And even better than his new skill set was the praise he’d received from Weasel during their lessons. The other man had congratulated him on his accrued knowledge of subjects both legal and otherwise, and even went so far as to say that Peter was one of the smartest people he knew (aside from himself, of course). Peter had preened at the compliment, and he could tell that Wade was proud of him, too. Just not enough to let Peter flaunt his talents in a real-world setting.

It was all so _frustrating_.

Peter had been moping on the couch for the better part of an hour before Wade slunk back into the room, his mask in place to better hide his emotions. Peter wished he had the same luxury, since he was sure the hurt and disappointment were still clear on his face. He rubbed his cheeks hastily with the back of his hand, hoping to wipe away any remaining tear tracks.

“Hey, Petey,” Wade began in a subdued tone, sitting down delicately on the other side of the couch. “Can we talk?”

Peter huffed and curled into a tight ball. “I’m tired of talking.”

“To be fair, what we were doing earlier was more like fighting than talking. See, fighting and talking are actually totally different. Trust me, I’m an expert in both.”

When Peter’s only response was to push deeper into the cushion, Wade sighed and laid gingerly along the length of the couch, his masked nose a hair's breadth away from Peter’s drooping wings. 

“Please talk to me,” he murmured, nudging the fairy with his nose. Peter’s wings twitched as Wade’s breath hit their sensitive surface.

“What’s the point?” he mumbled gloomily, face hidden. “You don’t wanna listen to anything I have to say.”

Wade shifted behind him, pressing harder into Peter’s back. “That’s not true. I love listening to you talk about all kinds of stuff. Trains, computers, the nerd things you do with Tony…”

“...but not about SHIELD,” Peter finished for him, squeezing his eyes shut against another wave of angry tears.

“Baby boy-”

“No,” Peter interrupted sternly, turning his head to peer at Wade over his shoulder. “Stop it. I’m not a baby. I’m an adult, and I should have the right to make my own decisions about what I do.” He sniffed and rubbed his eyes, glaring at the hero. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Wade tried to soothe, raising a hand to curl his fingers over Peter’s hunched form. “You’re right, you’re not a baby. I’m sorry if I’ve been treating you like one. I didn’t mean to, I swear.”

“I know,” Peter said, twisting to the side just enough so that he wasn’t quite facing Wade. He put his hand on the tip of his friend’s nose and rubbed it in small circles. “I understand why you’re afraid for me. Really, I do.” He paused, then pushed his palm flat against the bridge of Wade’s nose, the material warm against Peter’s flesh. “It’s the same reason I worry about you whenever you go on a mission.”

“And why is that?” Wade asked, tone gentle and vulnerable.

“Because I care about you,” Peter declared simply, giving a tearful smile. His lips twitched up even further as he watched Wade fumble for words, sputtering behind his mask. Well, that was new. 

“You do?” Wade finally managed to choke out, his hand frozen around Peter’s hunched frame. 

Peter laughed wetly, sniffling as he said, “Of course I do. You’re one of the greatest people I’ve ever met.” 

Wade’s body tensed up tighter than a bow string at Peter’s words, but the fairy had expected as much. Wade always seemed to have trouble expressing his true emotions, and an even harder time processing the thoughts and feelings of others. It wasn’t unusual for him to shut down or freeze when faced with an emotional decision or situation, so Peter wasn’t surprised that he was following the same pattern now.

What Peter _wasn’t_ expecting was for his friend to suddenly sit up and rip off his mask, exposing his own teary eyes and blotchy cheeks. Wade stared down at Peter like he wasn’t sure what to make of him, his mouth hanging open in wonder and his throat working to form something besides tiny whimpers. 

Peter felt his face crumple at Wade’s obvious distress and swiftly unfurled from his spot on the couch. He flew up so he was eye to eye with the hero, his hands coming to rest firmly on either side of Wade’s nose. 

“Wade,” he started, voice wobbly, “you’re my best friend in the whole world. You’re strong and brave, funny and caring. You introduced me to all the wonders of the human world, and you’ve done everything you could to protect me from its threats. You treat me like family and you ask for nothing in return.” 

Peter’s voice broke in a sob, his heart swelling with emotion as he and Wade locked gazes. Warmth flooded his chest the longer Peter stared, though the feeling was nothing new. In fact, he’d started to experience it often whenever he looked at Wade. Or thought about him. Or spoke to him. 

Yep, Peter had it bad. Whatever ‘it’ was, anyway. 

He knew his feelings for Wade went deeper than those of a normal friendship, since he never felt nervous or overly giddy around Coulson or the Avengers. (Not anymore, anyway.) But when Wade’s attention was on Peter? Oh man, his chest would grow tight and his stomach would be filled with hundreds of butterflies. And it didn’t look like that feeling would be going away anytime soon, either. Instead, it only seemed to get stronger, and Peter wasn’t sure how far it would lead him.

Overcome by emotion, Peter pressed his body closer to Wade, laying flush against the bridge of the man’s nose. He rested his forehead between the other’s brows, closing his eyes as he said, “I care about you, and that’s why I want to be out there on the field. I want to keep you safe and take care of you if you’re hurt. Just like you’ve done for me.”

Wade openly cried at Peter’s words and let his mask fall to the couch, bringing his hands up to cup the fairy to his scarred flesh. “I care about you, too, Petey,” he mumbled brokenly, closing his eyes and letting his tears fall in disorganized paths down his cheeks. “I care about you so much, and I’m so afraid of losing you. You’re the only person who’s stuck with me for this long without the benefit of a payout, and I don’t know what I’d do if you left.”

“I won’t leave,” Peter reassured him, running his fingers soothingly over Wade’s hairless brow. 

Wade chuckled humorlessly, his grip loosening. “Everyone leaves eventually.”

“Not me,” Peter said on a shaky exhale, clinging to Wade as he lifted his head and left a lingering kiss on the man’s broken skin. 

He heard Wade inhale sharply, his breath rattling around in his chest as he processed Peter’s words. “Promise?” he asked, voice tight.

Peter snuggled closer. “I promise.” 

And so finally, after copious amounts of nuzzling and fresh tears, Wade eventually acquiesced and compromised with Peter. The hero would take Coulson up on his offer and request a meeting with Director Shit Head so he could at least _attempt_ to get back into SHIELD’s good graces. In return, Peter agreed that he would never accept training or mission assignments from anyone unless Wade was present and approved of them beforehand.

With that drama out of the way, Peter and Wade were free to prepare for their return to the world outside of Weasel’s dumpy apartment. While Wade contacted Coulson about setting up an impromptu meeting with Der Fucker, Peter indulged in a hot bath in Weasel’s bathroom sink before slipping into a clean pair of clothes. He sighed in relief at the feel of fresh cotton on his skin, tucking his week-old clothes into his bag to be laundered later.  

Wade wasn’t as bothered about his cleanliness, choosing to give himself a quick “hobo bath” using Weasel’s stash of wet-wipes and hand sanitizer under the bathroom sink. Peter watched him silently from his seat on the counter, covering his eyes bashfully when Wade cleaned his nether bits. The end result still left the hero smelling a bit ripe, but when Peter said as much, Wade shrugged and pointed out that without an extra suit, a proper shower wouldn’t have helped much, anyway. 

“Trust me, things could be a lot worse,” Wade commented casually as he re-dressed and moved to gather his weapons. “I’ve had assignments that lasted several weeks at a time, and do you think they provided me with a proper commode? ‘Course not! I had to make do and poop out in the wilderness like my ancestors. It was freeing, in a way. Though it might have been more pleasant if I hadn’t accidentally wiped my ass with leadwort.” 

He turned to Peter and made an “X” with his arms. “Bad experience, by the way. 0/10, would not recommend.”

“He’s not wrong,” Weasel called from his spot on the living room couch, munching from a bag of chips while he watched t.v. “Back when we were working together on the daily, Wade’s stink could clear out a room like a gunshot.” 

Wade scoffed and shouted back at him through the bathroom door, “That only happened the one time, and you know it was because of those cheap burritos you foisted on me beforehand!”

“There was no foisting necessary - you’ve never said ‘no’ to a burrito in your life!”

“Whatever, Weas, you’re missing the point!” Wade said, pulling on his mask before gathering Peter up and placing him on his shoulder. He left the bathroom with a swift kick to the door and glared at Weasel as he wandered into the living room.

“Oh? And what’s the point?” Weasel asked snidely, giving Wade a dirty look when his bathroom door slammed into the adjacent wall. “And stop fucking up my apartment!”

“Fuck your apartment,” Wade said, coming to a stop near the couch and crossing his arms. “And the point is that I’m not taking a shower in your nasty-ass bathroom and there’s nothing you can say to make me.”

Weasel put a hand to his cheek and gasped. “Oh darn, are you sure there isn’t anything I can do to change your mind?”

“Afraid not.”

“Good,” Weasel said, shoving his hand back into his chip bag, “because the last thing I want is your ugly ass rubbing all over my linoleum.”

“You’re just jealous of how good this ass looks in red kevlar.” 

“Oh my _God_ ,” Weasel moaned, rolling his eyes and tossing his half-empty snack onto the couch. “Enough! I’m tired of you _and_ your ass! Now, would you both kindly _get out_ and go to your SHIELD meeting or whatever? I want to get back to my own life.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, we’re going,” Wade said, waving over his shoulder as he walked to the front door. “Have fun wallowing in your own filth.”

“People who live in glass houses, Wade,” Weasel called after him, his voice muffled by the slam of the apartment door. 

Peter and Wade exited Weasel’s run-down apartment building via the stairwell and hailed a cab at the street. Wade directed the cabby to take them to a restaurant near SHIELD headquarters, where Coulson was to join them before acting as their escort to the meeting. The ride over to the restaurant was filled with tense silence, Wade’s agitation bleeding into the atmosphere of the car and making both Peter and the driver uncomfortable. Peter attempted to lighten the mood with small talk and humorous comments about passing pedestrians, but Wade remained steadfastly irritable throughout the journey.

They piled out of the cab the moment it came to a rolling stop in front of their destination, Peter hanging on tight to the collar of Wade’s suit. The driver took off with a screech after collecting his payment, leaving the pair standing awkwardly on the sidewalk near the restaurant’s entrance. People on the street stared as they walked past the duo, but luckily everyone was smart enough to keep their distance. It probably helped that Wade was decked out in various weapons and practically oozed animosity.

“Should we go inside and wait for Coulson?” Peter asked, leaning forward to get a better look at his friend’s face.

Wade shook his head, an unreadable expression showing through his mask. “No. This whole meeting business is already getting on my nerves, and the last thing I want to do is have a sit-down meal with Coulson beforehand. The fucker can meet us out here.”

“Then how about we find somewhere comfy to sit while we wait?” Peter searched the street with a sweep of his gaze, spotting a nearby bench that wasn’t occupied. “How about over there?” he asked, pointing.

Wade’s eyes followed Peter’s tiny finger, and after a moment of contemplation he reluctantly agreed. He trudged over to the bench and sat down heavily, glowering at everyone within a ten foot radius. Peter sighed internally at Wade’s childish behavior, but figured it wasn’t worth getting into an argument if the man wasn’t hurting anything but his own pride. 

Luckily Coulson didn’t make them wait long, the agent pulling up alongside them in the street less than ten minutes later. He sat in the driver’s seat of a standard issue SHIELD sedan, and after rolling down the window he offered Peter and Wade a smile. “Ready to go?”

Wade didn’t answer immediately. He stepped up to the driver’s side door and leaned down so he was face-to-face with Coulson. “Coulson, I’m being serious, here. Look at my serious face.” Wade pointed at his masked face, which honestly did look pretty darn serious, in Peter’s opinion. “If anything shady goes down at this meeting, I’m holding you personally responsible. You got that?”

Coulson nodded, still grinning jovially. “I would expect nothing less, Mr. Wilson. Hop in,” he said, flicking his head to gesture toward the backseat. 

Wade climbed into the backseat and sat down, resting Peter at the top of his thigh before buckling his seat belt. Peter snuggled up to his friend and looked toward the front of the vehicle as Coulson pulled away from the curb and into the flow of traffic, noting that the agent was his usual serene self. He didn’t appear affected by the harsh glare Wade had fixed on the back of his head, something for which Peter was grateful. The last thing he needed today was another strained car ride through the streets of New York.

Figuring that it would help ease some of the group’s tension, Peter started a polite conversation with Coulson, asking how he’d been over the past few months. Coulson was more than happy to participate in the light banter, though Wade mostly stayed out of it. The hero would make comments here and there, usually jabs at Coulson’s or SHIELD’s expense, but the agent brushed them aside easily and his calm demeanor didn’t change throughout the ride.

They entered SHIELD headquarters through the same underground parking garage they had before when Peter was first brought in for questioning. There were far more agents milling around this time, seeing as how it was the middle of the morning. Thankfully most of them were too preoccupied with their own business to pay attention as Coulson pulled into a space and the three of them exited the vehicle.

“This way, gentlemen,” Coulson directed, leading Wade and Peter through the garage toward the elevators at the back wall. Peter noticed a few gazes lock onto the hero as they passed, the agents whispering to each other in hushed tones as Coulson pressed the call button for the elevator. 

Nerves on edge from the unwanted scrutiny, Peter leaned back to peek around Wade’s neck and address Coulson. “You told everyone we were coming, right? They’re not going to arrest us?”

Wade snorted rudely. “Not if they know what’s good for them.”

“They’re aware of your scheduled meeting with the Director,” Coulson answered, directing his gaze to Peter. “They’ll leave you alone, don’t worry.”

They were interrupted by the elevator’s cheerful _ding_ as the doors opened and the current passengers cleared out, allowing the threesome to enter and for Coulson to scan his I.D. badge and press the button for their floor. They rode to their destination enshrouded in a steely silence, Wade’s jaw clenched tightly behind his mask. Peter caressed his friend’s tense muscles, hoping to offer some comfort.

They exited the elevator on one of the building’s top floors, this one much fancier than what Peter had seen during his previous visits. There was also a much heavier security presence, with agents and suited guards standing at attention near the elevator and at regular intervals along the hallway. They all eyed Wade carefully as he passed, their gazes inevitably shifting to Peter once he was noticed. The fairy simply waved at each of them and offered his most charming smile, the gesture appearing to catch a few of the agents off guard. 

Coulson led the group to a fancy-looking door at the end of the hall, the SHIELD crest displayed proudly at its center. He motioned for Wade and Peter to wait, then stepped forward and knocked three times before scanning his badge and fingertips at a large security panel situated on the wall. It took a moment for the lock to unlatch, the sharp clicking sound signaling Coulson to push open the door and step aside so Wade could enter.

There were two people already in the room. One was a dark-skinned man with an eye-patch who was sitting behind a large mahogany desk, while the other was a woman Peter recognized as Agent Hill. Hill was settled to their far right in one of four empty seats arranged around the front of the desk, her head turning to watch the newcomers as they arrived. 

Coulson moved to the chair farthest to the left without a word, while Wade huffed and immediately walked forward to claim the seat across from the man with the eye-patch, leaving the seat between himself and Hill empty. Peter noted that Coulson had neglected to close the door behind them, but before he could point it out, Eye-Patch Man began to speak.

“Wade W. Wilson. It’s been a few weeks since you darkened my doorway.”

Wade grinned. “Hey Nick. Did you get my message?” 

“I got the gist of it,” ‘Nick’ said, shifting in his chair. He glanced at Peter, studying him. “I read your file, Peter. I’m Nick Fury, Director of SHIELD. You already know agents Phil Coulson and Maria Hill,” he said, nodding at each of them in turn. “I’d just like to say that it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” 

Wade’s eyes narrowed. “Can’t say I feel the same, Spyglass.” When he was met with a confused silence by everyone else in the room, the hero raised a finger and stared off into the middle distance, saying, “Think about it for a second.”

“We don’t have time for your jokes, Deadpool,” Fury growled, leaning forward to rest his clasped hands on the desk. “Introductions aside, the only reason we’re even having this meeting as opposed to me just tossing your ass into a cell and calling it a day is because Coulson here vouched for you.” He nodded his head toward the agent, who returned the gesture. 

Wade threw his head back and chortled. “Hah! Don’t make me laugh, Nicky. Makes my tummy hurt.” He wiped a fake tear from his eye, his demeanor becoming serious once more. “And what makes you think I’d sit back and let you arrest me? You know better than anyone else that I could tear this place apart without breaking a sweat.”

“You wouldn’t get out of here alive,” the man replied, his one remaining eye trained on Wade. 

The hero scoffed. “And?”

“And I know that doesn’t mean much to you, but how about we hear Peter’s thoughts on the matter?” The man’s gaze shifted from Wade to the fairy nestled against the hero’s neck, Fury’s single eye burning into Peter’s own. 

Wade snarled, lifting a hand and placing it securely around Peter. “Don’t you dare talk to him like you actually _care_ \- not after what you assholes pulled! And it’s your own damn fault I totaled that shit heap of a mission. No one fucks with Petey on my watch.”

“No one fucks with my intelligence operations!” Nick fired back, one hand curling into a fist. “That ‘shit heap’ took months of planning and it was our one chance at uncovering research tying Hydra’s activities directly to Doom.” He paused to take in a long, even breath, his expression severe. “Enough bullshit, Wilson. The next words out of your mouth better be your explanation as to how our evidence against Hydra ended up crushed under your boot.” 

Wade shrugged his free shoulder. “Would you believe me if I told you it was an accident?”

Fury was not impressed. “No, I can’t say I would.”

“Meh, it was worth a shot.”

Agent Hill leaned forward in her seat, her heated gaze directed at Wade. “We’ve suspected Hydra of having ties to Doom for months now, but because of your intrusion, we lost what may have been the only records available that could have proven those suspicions. Not to mention the several incredibly expensive pieces of technology and hardware that were destroyed during your little temper tantrum on the jet.”

Wade returned her glare with a growl. “Technology, huh? You mean like that tracer you hid in Peter’s earpiece?” Hill opened her mouth to answer, but Wade beat her to it. “I don’t give a shit about what you lost in all of this! Did you assholes ever think about what _I_ could have lost because of your bullshit lies?” 

Hill straightened in her chair, her face stony. “Peter chose to be a part of the mission of his own accord.”

“You tricked him!” Wade shouted, jumping to his feet and knocking his chair back a few inches. “If you hadn’t fucked with his head he would have stayed in New York where he was safe!”

Agents Hill and Coulson stood as well, hands on their weapons. Fury remained in his seat, watching their interaction closely. 

“It was a simple mission!” Hill continued, defending SHIELD’s actions. “We had fail-safes in place in case of an emergency!”

“Fuck your fail-safes! He shouldn’t have been there in the first place!”

“We had to do this quietly!” Hill argued, her knuckles white around the hilt of her gun. “We needed someone small and inconspicuous to-”

Wade snarled, throwing his arms out angrily. “That’s what Ant Man is for! You want someone tiny, you call him! He’s already on your roster, for fuck’s sake!”

“Scott was not available-”

“Oh, _bullshit_!” Wade shouted, dismissing the excuse with a swipe of his arm. “Half of the Avengers’ roster was sitting around at the compound having a sleepover and painting each other’s nails. You could have called them in for this one and you know it!”

Wade and Hill stared one another down, their breaths loud in the stillness of the room. Coulson stood behind Wade, quiet and subdued, remaining just inside Peter and Wade’s periphery. They all jolted when Nick Fury’s voice broke through the building tension, the SHIELD Director still seated behind his desk.

“Ant Man wasn’t appropriate for this mission, because it was specifically designed with Peter in mind.”

Everyone present turned to Nick in muted shock. Peter’s mouth hung open as he tried to formulate a coherent thought. Did...the Director of SHIELD just admit that they’d intended for Peter to complete this mission all along? But why? He had no formal training and no special skills to speak of, so what could Peter have possibly brought to the assignment over any of the Avengers?

Peter’s thoughts came to a screeching halt when he felt Wade’s muscles tense beneath him. The fairy jerked his head toward his friend, his heart jumping into his throat when he recognized the muted fury hidden beneath Wade’s mask. Hoping to cut off his friend’s rage-induced tirade before it could begin, Peter blurted out the first thing that came to mind. 

“Wha’chu talkin’ bout, Fury?”

Wade’s surprised snort eased Peter’s nerves a bit, but he was still on edge as he awaited the Director’s answer.

“I’m talking about a test,” the man continued, his eye trained on Peter. “An assessment of your character, your intrinsic abilities, and how you handle yourself under pressure.”

Peter’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Why? I’m not a hero.”

“Not yet,” Nick said, finally standing up from his chair. “But you could be, with the proper training.”

“Yeah, about that,” Wade cut in, his arms hanging stiffly at his sides. “Me and Petey already discussed things, and we decided that any and all training will be overseen by myself and handled by parties I’ve deemed trustworthy.”

Nick cocked his head and drummed his fingers on his desk. “Oh really now? And who might these parties be?”

“That’s none of your concern.”

“Actually, I think it is,” Fury said, rounding the desk. “You see, the entire reason Peter even showed up on our radar is because of you, Wilson. Or, more specifically, your influence.” He crossed his arms and moved to lean against the front of his desk, his gaze flitting from Wade to Peter. 

“Influence?” Peter asked, looking between them. 

Wade’s answer was a snarl. “Shut your mouth,” he spat, taking a step forward. Coulson and Hill mirrored his movement, their bodies poised for a fight. “You’re trampling on dangerous ground, here.”

“Wade, what does he mean?” Peter repeated, tugging at the hem of the hero’s mask to get his attention. “Why does SHIELD care that we’re friends?” He wasn’t sure why, but Peter was getting a very strange sense of déjà vu. Had this topic come up before? If it had, he didn’t remember ever receiving a response.

Wade raised a hand in a request for silence. “Not now, Pete. I’ll explain la-”

“Deadpool’s reputation is well known by SHIELD, and probably by a good majority of New York’s less savory residents,” Fury interrupted, ignoring the death glare Wade shot his way as he continued to look at Peter. “He’s not exactly someone you’d call ‘reliable.’ He’s good for a quick hit, though.”

“Hit?” Peter murmured a moment before Wade drew his weapon, the barrel of his gun pointed directly at Fury’s face. 

“Wade!” Peter shouted, gripping his friend’s mask. “Stop!”

“Drop your weapon!” Agent Hill commanded, she and Coulson also drawing their guns and directing them at Wade. 

Peter gasped as he faced down the barrel of Hill’s pistol. “Wait!” he begged, holding out a hand toward her. “Everyone, please wait! Wade, put down your gun!” He didn’t understand why the situation had fallen apart so suddenly, but it was becoming clear that it had something to do with Wade’s past actions. 

More importantly, what did Fury mean by ‘hit’? Peter had heard the word mentioned before, but only in those late-night cop dramas he liked to watch with Wade. And it certainly didn’t have a pleasant connotation in those shows. In fact, it was only brought up as a synonym for murder.

A cold shiver raced down Peter’s spine at the thought. Was Fury saying that Wade...had killed people before? He shook his head, feeling a bead of sweat forming at his brow. No, no, that wasn’t possible. Wade was a hero! That couldn’t be right! Sure he’d threatened people and he wasn’t afraid to use violence to solve a problem, but he’d never actually _kill_ someone!

...Would he?

“Wade,” Peter whimpered in a small voice, desperate for answers, but the hero didn’t respond. Instead, he kept his gun leveled on the SHIELD Director, his breaths quick and harsh.  

“Shut. Your fucking. Mouth,” Wade demanded, his voice dripping with venom. 

“Or what?” Nick asked, appearing unphased at having a gun pointed at his head. “You gonna shoot me? Blow my brains out right here in front of Peter?” He gestured to the fairy, who had a growing look of horror overtaking his features. “I guess that would be the fastest way to prove my point. Then again, I could just give him a brief rundown of your previous kills,” he said, shrugging nonchalantly as he pressed an unseen button on the surface of his desk. A screen lit up against the far wall a moment later, showcasing a long list of names with accompanying faces and profiles. “It’d leave less of a clean up for the building’s janitor.”

“Don’t,” Wade started, clearly upset as he studied the screen, his grip tightening around his gun. “Not here. I need more time-”

“Have you told Peter your nickname, Deadpool?” Fury continued, unabashed. “What was it again? The Merc with a Mouth?”

Wade lunged forward, pushing the barrel of his gun against Fury’s forehead. “Shut up!” 

“Sir, give us your orders!” Agent Hill shouted, closing in on Wade. Peter could hear Coulson’s heavy footsteps coming closer as he did the same. 

“You didn’t get that nickname from us,” Nick persisted, ignoring Hill’s request. “You made a name for yourself all on your own, didn’t you?” He pushed another button and the list on the screen started to scroll downward, the blur of names and faces seemingly neverending. “Military personnel. Civilians. Villains and innocents alike. Didn’t matter to you, did it? Not if the money was good.”

Wade’s weapon shook. “Stop!” he demanded, sounding desperate.

“What’s your current kill count, Wade?” Fury called out, his voice reverberating throughout the room. “Can you even keep up anymore? Here, let me help you out.” He made a show of turning his head to read the information on the screen. “Oh, wow. It looks like you’ve added quite a few people to the lineup since the last time I checked. You must have been busy.” He returned his eye to Wade, his gaze burning. “I wonder how many of these you can justify.”

Wade’s breathing was labored under the mask, but he didn’t remove it. He also didn’t move from his threatening position, but Peter could feel the tremors running through his shoulders. Peter, too, was feeling the effects of Fury’s words, nausea settling in his stomach. The fairy looked to Wade for an answer - some type of explanation. Preferably a denial. But Wade seemed like he wasn’t sure what to say when faced with Fury’s accusations. 

“Wade,” Peter murmured, voice almost lost in the uneasy atmosphere. He pressed his palm against his friend’s cheek, putting pressure on the material until he felt the bumps and dips of Wade’s skin beneath. “Is it true?” 

Peter’s heart jumped into his throat when the hero went completely still. “Wade!” he pushed, getting to his knees and using both hands to grasp the man’s mask. “Tell me! Is it true? Have you...killed people before?” 

Wade shook his head minutely, taking a stilted breath. “I-” 

“The truth!” Peter demanded, tears clouding his vision. “I want the truth!”

Wade remained still for several long moments, his muscles taut. When he finally spoke, his words sounded muffled to Peter’s ears, like he was speaking underwater. “Yes.” He lowered his gun to his side, his head bowing in resignation. “It’s true.”

And in the stillness following the admission, Peter could swear he heard his own heart break.


	21. Decision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everyone! I hope this chapter helps alleviate the angst-hangover some of you have from the last one.
> 
> FYI: I'm moving to California tomorrow, and it's going to take me a few weeks to get settled. My writing times will be sporadic, so I'm not sure when the next chapter will be up. I'll definitely be working on it, it might just take me longer than usual.

Peter looked at Wade with unseeing eyes, his legs feeling like jelly beneath him. He remained kneeling on the other’s shoulder, his slackened hands resting on Wade’s mask. His ears rang with a ghostly echo of the man’s confession, the words moving slowly through Peter’s brain like molasses. 

This couldn’t be happening. Wade had to be lying. How could he have kept something so heinous from Peter for so long without letting it slip? Actually, better yet, why hadn’t he told Peter _sooner_? Didn’t Peter have a right to know the type of person he’d been living with all these months? To see Wade for who he was, instead of who he claimed to be?

“Why?” Peter heard himself ask, his voice wavering. He wasn’t even sure who he was speaking to, but in all honesty, it didn’t really matter. Everyone in this room had deceived him. He deserved an explanation from them all.

When no answers came, Peter asked again, this time with more vigor. He swiveled in place, glancing from one stony face to the other, until his gaze landed back on Wade. The man refused to look at him, his head tilted away from Peter in what the fairy could only assume was shame. But the question remained; was Wade’s silence provoked by his sense of guilt, or was it because he regretted Peter learning the truth?

Something explosive began building in Peter’s chest. “Wade,” he murmured, voice thick, “how could you?” 

Wade said nothing. He dropped his chin and stared at the floor. Peter grit his teeth at the sight of him, fighting back emotion. “How could you do something so... _terrible_?” he persisted, determined to get a response.

Wade continued to stew in his sullen silence, leaving Peter angry and frustrated. He huffed at the man and stumbled to his feet, jumping from Wade’s shoulder to hover above him. 

“I thought you were a hero!” Peter shouted, tears running down his cheeks in messy tracks. Wade remained stubbornly mute, prompting Peter to turn and glare at Coulson, his heart in his throat. “I thought all of you were heroes!”

“Peter-” Coulson began, lowering his gun. 

But now that Peter had gotten started, he found it difficult to stop. “I defended you, and you were a part of this?” he asked sharply, swallowing down a sudden spike of nausea. “Is this what SHIELD is about? Condoning murder? Hiring _killers_?”

“It’s an unfortunate inevitability of our job,” Coulson stated gently, his eyes softening.

“‘ _Inevitability_ ’?” Peter repeated, aghast. “You can’t just kill someone! Murder is never the answer!”

Coulson appeared sympathetic but undeterred. “It’s not that cut and dry. Sometimes tough decisions need to be made.”

“And are those the times you call in Wade?” Peter demanded, hiccuping on a rough sob. “Don’t you have anyone else you can send to do your dirty work?” 

Fury spoke up behind him. “Wade is our resident expert when it comes to eliminating enemy targets.”

Peter rounded on the Director, his chest tight as he yelled, “So you think it’s okay to force him to-!”

“There was no force involved,” Fury cut in, eying Peter critically. “Wade isn’t a victim in this, Peter. He’s well aware of the consequences of his actions.”

Peter saw Wade flinch out of the corner of his eye, and his chest tightened in momentary sympathy. _No_ , Peter admonished himself, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes closed. He sniffled and tried to force down his emotions. _This isn’t the time for compassion_. 

Peter opened his eyes and turned away from the group, flying straight to the door only to pause at the threshold, his wings beating furiously. He glanced over his shoulder at the people behind him, his harsh stare landing on Wade’s back. Peter felt fresh tears spill over his cheeks when he saw that Wade wouldn’t even look at him.

“You’re all horrible!” Peter shouted, distraught. “You’re not heroes - you’re killers!” Then he fled the room and rushed down the hallway in a blur, tearing past the guards stationed along the hall on his way to the elevator. He hurried forward when he saw the doors beginning to open and swooped inside, hovering quietly over the heads of the agents in the car. 

Peter pressed himself into a corner of the elevator and took in great gulps of air, his heart throbbing in his chest from adrenaline and stress. But despite the pain he felt from Wade’s betrayal, Peter couldn’t help but wait with bated breath to see if the man would follow him out - to apologize for his actions and try to make things right. 

Seconds ticked by with no sign of Wade, and when the doors finally closed with a resounding _clunk_ , disappointment washed over Peter like a wave. He rode the elevator in a daze, fluttering high up above the agents who stepped in and out on their journey through the building. They all noticed him, but aside from a few general greetings they remained tight lipped and kept to themselves. This was perfectly fine with Peter, who wasn’t in the mood to make small talk with strangers. 

He eventually reached the ground floor and made a beeline for the exit, ignoring the remaining humans as he headed through the parking garage. Peter stayed hidden in the shadows near the security doors, waiting for a car to leave so he could follow it out. Luckily he didn’t have to linger for more than a few minutes, as agents were coming and going at an even pace. 

Peter zipped through the security doors the first chance he got, trailing after a vehicle as it made its way onto the street and into the chilly New York air. The sudden shock of the breeze against his skin reminded Peter of the moisture on his cheeks, prompting him to wipe away the old tears with a sniff. 

Once he’d cleaned himself up, Peter’s sluggish thoughts inevitably settled on where he should go from here. Wade’s apartment was definitely out. Peter wasn’t sure he could stomach going back there right now. The Tower wasn’t an option, either, since he didn’t really want to deal with the Avengers. 

In fact, for the first time since he’d arrived in the city, Peter had no interest in having contact with humans of any sort. 

The need for privacy and the desire for solidarity narrowed down his choices, leaving Peter to decide on the one place that felt even remotely like home in this sea of humans, concrete, and filth - Central Park. 

With his destination in mind Peter flew through the streets, zipping over the heads of pedestrians as he followed the grid-like pattern of the city to its center. There were enormous throngs of people huddled around the entrance to the park, so Peter headed toward the north woods where he knew it would be less crowded. No one appeared to notice him, but he hid amongst the thick canopy of the trees anyway, ensuring that he remained out of sight of any park visitors he passed. 

Once he reached his destination, Peter skimmed through the branches and thick foliage until he found an abandoned squirrel den hidden amongst the leaves. The fairy settled inside the tiny hovel, shivering as he hunkered down and tried to find a spot that wasn’t touched by the cool autumn breeze. He wished desperately for the jacket he’d worn on his failed mission, but seeing as how it was currently nestled in one of Wade’s pouches for safe keeping, he’d have to make do without it.

Peter curled into a ball against the rough bark of the tree, his face pressed into his knees and his wings tucked tightly against his back to try and stave off the cold. His mind wandered in the muted stillness of his temporary den, trying to process everything he’d learned about Wade in the past few hours. 

It was hard to associate the carefree and gentle man he’d come to know with the monster that was portrayed by SHIELD’s records. But now that all the puzzle pieces were in place, Peter realized that he should have recognized that something was going on long before today. All of the signs had been there - from the way SHIELD and the Avengers interacted and spoke to Wade, to the supposed hero’s penchant for using violence in stressful situations. It all made sense when laid out before him, but Peter supposed that he had been too caught up in his admiration of Wade to see the harsh truth staring him in the face.

For the second time in as many weeks, Peter felt like a naïve fool.

His morose thoughts meandered back and forth between his old life and the one he’d made with Wade, his heart aching at the memory of their first meeting. It hurt Peter to realize that he’d left the only home he’d ever known to follow a man who had deceived him from the beginning. Because it was clear to Peter now that Wade had lied to him that day, back when they’d met outside of the destroyed Hydra facility. Contrary to what he’d been told, it wasn’t some previously unseen villain who had ransacked the building and brutalized the human soldiers inside - it was Wade. 

It had always been Wade.

Uncle Ben had been right to warn him away from humans.

Peter’s stomach clenched at the thought of Ben, his mind inevitably dredging up memories of his childhood. Peter’s aunt and uncle had been his entire world up until their deaths, and for many years afterward Peter had felt their loss as though it were a physical ache in his chest. And without his family beside him, Peter had spiraled into overwhelming despair and loneliness, ultimately turning to his experiments and projects to keep himself busy.

It was this extreme sense of isolation that had led Peter to investigate the Hydra facility in the first place, all those months ago. Curiosity played a part in the event for sure, but if he was honest with himself, Peter would admit that he had jumped at the chance to see something new - something interesting. And boy, had Wade delivered on both counts. 

In all actuality, the man had been so strange that Peter probably should have run screaming in the opposite direction and never looked back. However, by that point he’d been so desperate for social contact of any kind that Peter willfully ignored Wade’s odd qualities and allowed a bond to form between them. From that point on it was only a matter of time before he’d placed himself in the palm of the man’s hand, both literally and figuratively. 

But Peter hadn’t been bothered by their unusual dynamic. On the contrary, he’d enjoyed the easy camaraderie he found with Wade; the constant companionship. And as it turned out, Wade had been just as lonely as Peter, possibly even more so. He’d clung to the fairy for friendship and support, returning ten-fold whatever care and concern Peter had been willing to offer. 

Wade had done everything in his power to keep Peter content and close at hand, and the fairy had reveled in the attention. But now that his eyes had been opened to the truth, Peter wasn’t sure what to make of his relationship with Wade. He’d thought that they were friends, but a true friend wouldn’t lie about their past and present misdeeds for months on end. A true friend wouldn’t go behind his back to hunt and murder people at the behest of SHIELD. A _true_ friend would have been honest with Peter from the start.

Considering all that Wade had done, could Peter still honestly regard him as a friend? Could he forgive Wade for his lies - his continual and deliberate deception? Was it possible for Wade to redeem himself in Peter’s eyes despite his transgressions? Peter wasn’t sure, but his heart ached terribly at the thought of leaving Wade. 

A sharp breeze suddenly blew past his tree, forcing the fairy to curl into a tight ball to stave off the cold. He shivered at the drop in temperature, watching idly as his warm breath created puffs of vapor in the air around him. It reminded him of the mission in Canada, where a frantic Wade had arrived out of nowhere, searching for Peter in a panic. He could recall how happy he’d been to see his friend in that moment, to know that he was safe. And when Wade had held him close, showering him with kisses and affection, Peter’s heart had melted. 

Yesterday that memory would have brought him nothing but joy, but today it was bittersweet - tarnished by the reality of Wade’s actions. Peter was sure that the man had slaughtered everyone in that facility in his hunt for the fairy. And even though the people there had been labeled villains by SHIELD, Peter still mourned their loss. He didn’t understand how Wade and SHIELD could take the lives of others with such ruthless efficiency; snuffing them out without remorse or shame. The very idea turned Peter’s stomach.

In fact, the more he considered the actions of those he once trusted, the more Peter questioned his initial decision to leave England. At least things were simple back in his little home - easy. There were no surprises, hardships, or worries, and Peter was free to do as he pleased without concern for the world and its problems. 

Such a carefree life sounded perfect after everything he’d endured, if only for one thing - it didn’t include Wade. 

Peter knew such a detail shouldn’t bother him, especially not after the man’s confession. He obviously didn’t see eye-to-eye with Wade on the morality of murder, and Peter doubted he’d be able to change the other’s mind on the subject. So what reason was there for Peter to stick around? What use did he have for a killer?

But the longer his thoughts revolved around Wade, the harder it became for Peter to dismiss the man outright. He’d spent a long time in Wade’s company, and until today Peter couldn’t think of a single instance where he regretted their friendship. Wade had always been kind, gentle, and considerate of Peter; going out of his way to make sure the fairy was comfortable in human society. And although he hadn’t been forthright about his various misdeeds, Wade had willingly shown Peter his face and skin, something the fairy knew to be very personal to him. 

Peter recalled how nervous Wade had been in the moments before he revealed his face. He’d been so sure that Peter would be disgusted by his appearance - that he would leave and never look back. Peter had been proud to prove him wrong. 

But having bad skin was one thing. Peter had no trouble overlooking the superficial to recognize the inner beauty in another. However, he wasn’t so sure he could ignore the fact that Wade killed people for a living. It went against everything he stood for and every principle his aunt and uncle had instilled in him while he was in their care. Could he really forgive such egregious behavior?

Peter mulled over his options as the hours passed by, the daylight outside dipping delicately into twilight. He went back and forth between his strong feelings for Wade and his disappointment in the man, his heart aching with indecision. Peter still cared deeply for Wade, and that wasn’t likely to change any time soon. The laughter they’d shared throughout the span of their friendship was not easily forgotten, nor was the way Peter’s chest tightened at the memory of Wade’s smile and affectionate touches.

Peter bit his lip at the sensation of ghostly lips pressed against his own - of soft kisses given freely in the night. He lifted his head to stare pensively at the crescent moon through the leaves of the tree, his face numb from the cold. He wondered fleetingly if Wade was watching the moon, too. Was he was back at the apartment, warm and safe? Or maybe he was wandering the city, lost in his own thoughts like Peter? Perhaps even looking for him?

The fairy sighed into the open air, watching his breath fan out and disappear before him. He listened to the distant sound of the hustle and bustle of New York City, his heart heavy. He should leave soon. The chill was starting to get to him, and his wings already felt stiff from the cold. But where would he go? Back to Wade? Peter had to admit that he was tempted to do so, despite everything that had happened.

And that was his main issue, wasn’t it? That regardless of Wade’s lies and his reprehensible behavior, Peter still cared about him. He couldn’t deny that the emotions Wade dredged up inside him were intense and all encompassing. But even more curious was how the attachment he felt for Wade was similar to what he’d shared with his aunt and uncle. It was familiar. Pleasant.

These past months with Wade had been some of the best of his life, and Peter felt content in a way he hadn’t since his aunt and uncle died. The memories he’d made with Wade were just as dear to him as those with his surrogate parents, and Peter wasn’t sure what to make of the similarity. Could it be that his feelings for Wade were akin to what he’d shared with his aunt and uncle? 

Peter sat quietly as he pondered the true depths of his affinity for Wade, his gaze distant. He was aware that the affection they shared was out of the ordinary when it came to what most people would label a “normal” friendship. Peter would even agree with them to a certain extent, seeing as how he had no inclination to kiss his other friends, super or otherwise. But that just meant that what he had with Wade was special - more intimate.

Heat rushed to Peter’s face at the significance of such a distinction. He closed his eyes and pictured Wade, the man’s body thick with muscle and his lips pulled into a wide grin. The image evoked a soft heat in Peter’s belly, one he recognized but had never associated with Wade before now. 

Peter released a shaky breath and opened his eyes, his heart racing. Was it possible that his feelings for Wade had evolved from simple friendship to something more...passionate? He couldn’t deny the desire that stirred inside him at the thought of them together, but was that what Peter wanted? To be...closer to Wade?

Peter’s blush deepened at the idea, his mind racing with possibilities. He allowed himself to envision him and Wade as a couple, the two of them sharing heated kisses and affectionate caresses. Peter gasped at the immediate effect on his body, his pulse thrumming in his ears and a heady lust overtaking him. 

What did this mean? Peter had never felt this way about anyone before, and he wasn’t sure what to make of it. He’d already acknowledged that Wade was dear to him, but now that he was throwing physical attraction into the mix, Peter’s mind could only reach one possibility. 

“Oh my god,” Peter whispered, his eyes wide in shock. “I’m in love with Wade.” 

The fairy sat in stunned silence as darkness descended around him, his mind screeching to a halt. It was true. Now that he’d taken the time to stop and examine his own feelings, Peter could no longer deny the obvious.

He had fallen in love with Wade Wilson.

Peter shot to his feet in a sudden burst of movement, his wings flickering anxiously. Holy crap. Holy crap! He loved Wade! Peter began pacing around the inside of the tree, the chilly air forgotten in his panic. 

How could this have happened? How could Peter love Wade? He’d known him for less than a year! Did love even work like that? But setting that aside, there was still the issue of Wade’s chosen career. The man killed people for a living! How the heck was Peter supposed to parse _that_ little detail? He could barely wrap his head around it and he didn’t even have all the gritty details. If he did decide to stay and explore the possibility of a romantic relationship with Wade, Peter didn’t think he could ever be comfortable dating a professional murderer.

But wait, wait, wait. Maybe he was getting ahead of himself here. Peter had never been... _involved_ with anyone before, so who’s to say this was love? Maybe it was simple attachment - a friendship that went beyond the norm, but didn’t strictly fall into the category of romantic love? Without an example of a loving couple, he had no way to confirm his feelings either way.

Peter continued to pace around the interior of the tree, his thoughts frantic and muddled. His search for the perfect couple inevitably led him to his memories of his aunt and uncle, their soft smiles and tender demeanor still clear in his mind. They’d gotten married long before he was ever born, and since Peter couldn’t remember his parents, Ben and May were the only example of a romantic couple that Peter had for reference. 

He closed his eyes and concentrated hard in an effort to recall their interactions from his childhood. He remembered the gentle kisses they’d given to one another in greeting, the warm hugs offered in parting, and the delicate touches they’d shared throughout the day. And after comparing them to those he’d experienced with Wade, the parallels between the two were undeniable. 

“Holy crap,” Peter repeated, plopping down heavily on his bottom, “I love Wade.” This time he let the words wash over him fully, his shock soon fading into incredulity. He’d fallen in love with a human. But not just any human, oh no - he’d fallen for Wade Wilson, a.k.a. Deadpool: hired assassin and part-time superhero. How on Earth had he gotten himself into this mess?

Peter sat in sullen silence as he considered his dilemma, his mind fighting with his heart over the ramifications involved in loving a killer. While his head insisted that people never truly changed, his heart told him that Wade was a good person who’d merely followed the wrong path due to circumstance. What those circumstances were Peter didn’t know, but his inherent optimism assured him that Wade must have had _some_ reason for his actions. Peter just hoped for both their sakes that it was a damn good one.

After spending a few minutes mulling over his most recent revelation of the night, Peter came to a tough decision. He would return to the apartment and confront Wade face to face; give him the opportunity to explain himself. Then, based on his answers, Peter would choose to either stay with Wade in New York, or he’d set aside his feelings for the man and leave, never to return.

With a heavy heart, Peter stood from the floor on shaky legs and hobbled over to stand near the entrance of the tree. He glanced outside and realized with a start that night had fallen completely while he’d been engrossed in thought. The temperature had also dropped to dangerous levels, prompting him to get moving before he became a fairy-shaped icicle. 

Peter straightened and shook the tremors from his limbs as he walked to the edge of the tree, his breath barely visible in the moonlight. He peered out tentatively, noting that the park’s pathway lights were now lit and darkness had saturated the areas that weren’t touched by their glow. Peter grinned at his stroke of luck, as the various patches of gloom would offer the perfect cover for him to make his escape without being seen. 

Peter pulled his head back inside the tree and took a step out onto the ledge, prepared to put his plan into action. He rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck, then fluttered his wings experimentally. He gave a relieved sigh when they moved, glad that the cold hadn’t damaged them yet. The membranes were a bit stiff, though, which indicated that he needed to get somewhere warm before he was grounded for good. 

Peter counted to three under his breath then hopped from his perch, beating his wings wildly as he cut through the chilly night air. He flew from one spot of darkness to another, zipping around any points of light in an effort to stay out of sight. There weren’t as many people wandering about as there would be during the day, but even so, Peter didn’t want to take any chances. 

He cleared the perimeter of the park in record time and proceeded onto the city streets, keeping as close to the buildings as he dared. He’d begun to shiver violently now that he was in the open air, prompting him to push himself faster. He knew that if he could make it down into the subway he’d have an easier time of getting back to Wade, but first he had to find an entrance that wasn’t teeming with humans.

Peter traveled up and down the city blocks, his gaze jumping from one side of the street to the other in search of a safe way underground. Every so often a gust of hot air would waft up from an open storefront, giving Peter a brief respite from the cold. He relished those few seconds of heat, his body aching for a reprieve. But although he was tempted to duck inside one of the shops to warm up, Peter continued onward, determined to find his way back to Wade.

The fairy swooped and swerved along numerous streets before he managed to find a suitable entrance to the underground. He wasted no time diving down the staircase and into the dank subway tunnel, his eyes taking a moment to adjust to the fluorescent lighting. The sudden blast of heat was a shock to his system, causing goosebumps to rise on his arms and neck. Peter basked in it briefly before moving on, resolute in his goal.

He flew past the ticket counter and over the empty turnstiles, his gaze landing on the nearest directional displays. Peter read the street names carefully in order to get his bearings, pleased to find that he wasn’t too far from Wade’s neighborhood. He decided to take the express line since it stopped only two blocks away from the apartment, and made his way down to the platform without any problems. 

The air was stuffy from the trapped heat and the throng of human bodies peppered along the walkway, but Peter ignored it in favor of listening for any oncoming trains. Thankfully they were still on schedule despite all the evening foot traffic, so it didn’t take long before the express line pulled into the station. Peter was quick to enter through the automatic doors and find a spot hidden inside an air duct, the metal almost uncomfortably hot on his skin. 

He rode the train through various stops until he’d reached the right one, then exited and made his way topside. Peter came up exactly where he’d expected, and he gave himself a metaphorical pat on the back for remembering the city’s layout. Now it was just a matter of traveling the last two blocks and finding his way into the apartment. Shouldn’t be too hard if Wade had gone straight home.

Peter flew alongside apartments and across storefronts, making his way to Wade’s rundown complex. He found it easily, the crumbling brick and barred windows as familiar to him as the back of his own hand. Peter counted the windows until he found the correct one, flying right up to it and shoving his face against the glass. The interior of the apartment was dark, but he was able to discern the outline of what looked to be a human sitting on the couch. The figure was hunched over and unmoving, holding something loosely in its hand. Peter couldn’t get a good look at it, but it glinted faintly in the low light. Something metallic, maybe?

Peter paused, unsure of what to make of the scene. Was it Wade? Was he asleep? Should Peter knock on the window to get his attention? 

He ended up rapping his knuckles delicately on the freezing glass so as not to startle whoever was inside. When he didn’t receive a reaction Peter tried again, this time smacking his palm against the window with as much strength as he dared. The _thunk_ of his hand on the glass was faint, but it did manage to capture the attention of the person on the couch. They lifted their head slightly at the noise, revealing the white eyes of the Deadpool mask. 

Oh good, it _was_ Wade. Now that he was sure, Peter waved timidly from his perch outside, unsure how the man would react to seeing him so soon after their fall-out. He was reassured when Wade jumped to his feet and rushed over to the window, the item in his hand disappearing somewhere on his belt. 

“Petey, you came back!” Wade said as he opened the window, sounding breathless and awed. He leaned close to the fairy and stared at him hard, like he couldn’t believe his eyes.

Peter offered him a shy smile, his heart leaping in his chest at the sight of the man. “Um, hi.”

Wade gawked at Peter a second longer before coming to his senses. “Er, uh,” he mumbled, scratching his neck awkwardly. “You, uh, you wanna come inside? It’s pretty cold out here.”

Peter chuckled nervously and climbed over the window sill, careful of the slippery metal. “Cold enough to freeze your nuts?” he asked, looking up at Wade with a cheeky grin.

Wade snorted at the sudden joke, giggling as he shut the window with a _snap_. “Yep! Freeze ‘em right off your body!” His laughter died a swift death once the latch had been fastened, an awkward silence creeping in to take its place. Wade took a step back from the fairy, his head bowing in what appeared to be guilt. He shuffled in place and twitched his hands in several aborted gestures, clearing his throat uncomfortably. 

Peter was about to say something to try and break the ice, but Wade beat him to it, falling abruptly to his knees with heavy breaths and trembling shoulders. He sounded suspiciously close to tears when he began to speak, his gaze slowly rising from the floor to settle on Peter.

“I’m so, so sorry, Baby Boy,” he murmured, reaching up to remove his mask so he could look Peter in the eye. “I never meant for this to happen.”

Peter appreciated the gesture, knowing how hard it was for Wade to be open about his emotions. He took the opportunity to study Wade’s face, searching his eyes for any indication of deceit. When all he saw was honesty and obvious grief, Peter worried his bottom lip with his teeth and thought over his next words carefully.

Peter _really_ wasn’t looking forward to their impending discussion, but it was something that had to be done before they could move on in their relationship. He ultimately decided to go the direct route, crossing his arms apprehensively and tilting his chin up as he asked, “You never meant for what to happen? For me to find out about your job? Or for SHIELD to tell me about it?”

Wade winced at the underlying accusation in Peter’s tone, hurt flashing in his gaze. He looked miserable, and Peter internally cringed at the sight. 

“It wasn’t that I didn’t want you to find out,” Wade started, shifting uncomfortably. “I just...didn’t want you to find out that way.” He shuffled forward on his knees, bringing his face closer to Peter. “I swear, Petey, I planned on telling you everything, but I could never find the right time to do it.”

“The ‘right time’ would have been from the very beginning,” Peter stated matter-of-factly, flicking his wings for emphasis.

Wade shook his head dejectedly. “You would have never agreed to come with me if you had known what I did for a living.”

“Okay, fair point,” Peter admitted, scuffing his shoe against the windowsill absently. “But we’ve been friends for months, now. You had plenty of opportunities to mention it, so why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

Wade’s eyes dropped to the floor again, his expression pained. “I was afraid,” he admitted, digging his fingers into the material of his mask anxiously. 

“Afraid?” Peter echoed, brows furrowing.

“Of losing you,” Wade continued in a whisper, swallowing thickly. He raised his head and looked into Peter’s eyes, his own appearing glossy with unshed tears. 

Peter’s heart lurched. “Wade…” 

“I told you, Baby Boy,” Wade said in a choked murmur, sniffling softly. “You’re the only person to stick with me this long. Everyone else I’ve ever cared about has left me, either because they couldn’t stand my face, my personality, or my sitcom choices.” 

“You’re not alone, Wade,” Peter assured him, dropping his arms to his sides and stepping closer. “You have Ellie and the Prestons. The Avengers like you, too, even if they don’t always act like it.” 

Wade snorted. “The Avengers put up with me because they have to. So do the Prestons,” he grumbled, fiddling with his mask. “Poor Emily has been saddled with me for years, and now she’s stuck watching Ellie because I’m too much of a mess to take care of my own daughter.” 

Wade paused to take a shaky breath, his brows pinched in a heavy scowl. “Ellie would be better off without me,” he whispered, sitting back on his heels. 

Peter frowned. “That’s not true at all,” he asserted, lifting himself from the windowsill to hover in front of Wade’s face. “Ellie loves you! I’ve seen it with my own eyes. And the Prestons? They were worried sick when SHIELD came to the house to tell us you’d gone missing.”

Wade looked at Peter, his expression guarded. “Really?”

Peter threw his arms out pointedly. “Yes, really! And while I admit that the Avengers can be butts sometimes, they completely took your side against SHIELD in this whole mission fiasco. Tony even risked retaliation by defending your actions and exposing SHIELD’s lies.”

Wade pulled at a seam on his mask as he regarded Peter, his gaze flickering back and forth from the fairy to his hands. “I guess you’re right,” he mused slowly, lips pursed in a stubborn pout.

“Of course I’m right!” Peter said, poking Wade’s bottom lip with a finger. Wade’s mouth twitched into a reluctant smile, and Peter grinned back. “So now that that’s been established, why don’t we get back to the main issue at hand?”

Wade’s smile fell. “You mean about me lying to you?”

“Well, yes, but you already apologized for that,” Peter said, patting Wade’s cheek reassuringly. “What I really want to talk about is where we go from here.”

When Wade shot him a blank look, Peter elaborated. “I mean, like, in our relationship.” 

“Relationship?” Wade asked, watching Peter intently. 

“Yeah. See, I did a lot of thinking today, after the meeting. I thought about our friendship, and all the fun we’ve had together,” Peter started, biting his lip and playing with the hem of his shirt, suddenly bashful. 

“And?” Wade prompted him gently, leaning closer.

“I meant what I said earlier,” Peter blurted, a heated blush blooming across his cheeks as he fumbled for the right words. “You know, about caring about you.” 

“Yeah…?”

“And I still do,” Peter said, eyes dropping to the floor nervously. “Maybe even a bit more than I initially thought,” he admitted in a small voice, unable to look at the man. 

“What are you saying?” Wade asked hesitantly, pressing a finger to Peter’s chin to lift his head.

Peter took a deep breath, shoring up his courage as he met Wade’s strong gaze. “I’m saying that I’m willing to stay with you, but I can’t let this go any further if you continue to kill people for a living.”

Wade was quiet for a moment as he studied Peter’s face. When he finally spoke, it was with a small glimmer of hope. “So, you’re not leaving?” 

“Not if you promise to quit murdering people.”

Wade whooped and snatched Peter out of the air, pulling him close and showering his head and face with kisses. “I promise!” he said between pecks, laying an especially loud smooch on Peter’s cheek. “I’ll call Coulson tomorrow - no, right now! - and tell him I’m done with mercenary work. How’s that sound?”

Peter giggled at the barrage of affectionate touches, squealing with delight when Wade dropped an enthusiastic kiss on his stomach. He squirmed at the ticklish sensation, pushing against the man’s forehead to get him to stop. Wade pulled back with a smirk at his insistent shoves, and Peter took the opportunity to catch his breath before answering.

“Sounds good,” he said with a chuckle, eyes bright. Peter smiled up at Wade, his heart swelling with emotion to see it mirrored on the scarred face. He leaned forward and brushed his lips against Wade’s, closing his eyes with a sigh. 

Yes, this was good. He could live with this. And although he still wanted to hear Wade’s reasons for his actions, Peter decided that it could wait until tomorrow. In this moment, all he wanted was to bask in the other’s presence and enjoy his company. 

Wade had promised to make things right, and that was enough for now. 


	22. Acceptance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I liiiive!
> 
> Sorry for the long wait! It took me awhile to get settled in my new home state, but I've got myself a job now and an apartment and things are finally starting to fall into place. 
> 
> So, without further ado, here is the long awaited Chapter 22! I hope it meets expectations. :D

As promised, Wade made a call to Coulson the moment his hands were free. It didn’t last long, mostly consisting of Wade yelling a simple “I quit!” into the phone before hanging up with a satisfied grin. He looked to Peter for approval, his smile widening when the fairy gave him a thumbs-up from his perch on the windowsill. Wade returned the gesture and slipped his phone and mask back into a pouch on his belt, his eyes bright and hopeful as he walked to the window and knelt so he was face-to-face with Peter.

“How was that? Did I do good?”

“You did really good,” Peter affirmed, fluttering up to leave a quick kiss to the tip of Wade’s nose. “Now, what d’ya say we head to bed and continue this discussion in the morning? It’s getting late and I’m tired.”

Wade deflated at the reminder of their impending conversation, his shoulders drooping. “I take it you’re not going to drop this without one of those long and emotionally taxing Talks, huh?”

“You bet your butt I’m not.”

Wade sighed but gave in without any additional fuss. He offered Peter his hand, waiting patiently for the fairy to land on his palm before climbing to his feet and retiring to the bedroom. He hesitated next to Peter’s tiny house, glancing at the fairy in uncertain silence. Peter read the unasked question in Wade’s gaze, smiling gently as he shook his head and pointed shyly toward Wade’s bed.

“Would you mind if I slept with you tonight?” he asked, feeling a blush creep up his cheeks. Peter wrung his hands as he waited for Wade’s answer, his heartbeat quickening in his chest. 

It was strange - Peter had never felt nervous or awkward sharing a bed with Wade in the past. Then again, that was before he’d realized that his feelings for Wade went deeper than that of a simple friendship. Now that Peter had acknowledged his physical attraction for the other man and accepted it wholeheartedly, the thought of them sleeping within close proximity of one another left Peter with butterflies in his stomach.

Wade looked relieved at Peter’s request, his scarred lips pulling into a goofy grin. “Of course I don’t mind!” he replied, stepping over to the bed with confident strides. “There’s always room for you, Petey.” He lowered the fairy delicately onto the sheets, watching as Peter stepped off his hand and walked to the head of the bed to settle in a spot near the pillow. “Just give me a minute to change and we can go to bed.”

“Okay,” Peter said, watching Wade turn and head toward his dresser. “Oh hey, can you get me some pajamas?” Peter called absently, his eyes dropping as he focused on removing his shoes. When his icy fingers fumbled with the task, Peter glanced up at Wade and added sheepishly, “And a sweater, please?”

“Sure thing!” Wade said, waving a hand over his shoulder in acknowledgement. He headed toward Peter’s house on the dresser and tried to fit his head and hands inside, the image of the large and heavily muscled man trying to squeeze into a dollhouse rather comical. Wade’s thick fingers fumbled as he attempted to grab the requested items from Peter’s dresser and closet, causing him to grunt and curse with effort. 

Apparently tiny dollhouse furniture wasn’t designed with a 6’ 2” mercenary in mind. 

It took a couple seconds of frustrated grappling with tiny drawers, but Wade eventually managed to pull Peter’s clothes from his fairy-sized bedroom. The man grinned and turned back to Peter, holding the items up triumphantly above his head and appearing absurdly pleased with himself for completing such a mundane task. 

“You need anything else?” Wade asked, bringing the clothing back to the bed and handing it off to Peter.

“No, I’m alright. Thanks!” Peter smiled up at Wade and gathered the garments to his chest, waiting for the man to look away before swiftly changing into his sleep clothes. Once he’d finished Peter looked up and watched Wade shuffling around the room for a moment, a blush coloring his cheeks when the other man started stripping off his suit to get ready for bed. Peter swiftly looked away, still nervous and bashful when it came to Wade’s nakedness. 

To keep his mind off Wade and his tempting body, Peter kept himself busy by folding his day clothes and gathering up his shoes. He flew over to lay them on the nightstand next to the bed, then returned to his spot near the bottom of the pillow, snuggling beneath the blankets in an effort to get warm. Peter was grateful for the sweater Wade had given him, the added layer offering additional protection against the chill of the apartment. 

Wade joined him soon afterward, (thankfully) dressed in a pair of sleep pants and a long sleeved shirt. The man climbed gingerly into bed and curled around Peter’s covered form, the heat of his body making Peter shiver. 

“You warm enough, Baby Boy?” Wade asked, bunching the top sheet so it surrounded the fairy like a tiny blockade.

Peter shivered again at the gruff voice and pulled the blankets tighter around his body. “I’m getting there.” He knew he’d warm up faster if he cuddled up to Wade, but Peter was far too nervous to blurt out such a request. Luckily for Peter, Wade was always more than happy to offer such intimate contact upfront and without preamble. 

“Don’t worry, Baby Boy, I got you,” Wade said, laying on his side and sliding his hand under the sheets until he found Peter’s body. The fairy quivered and his heart started racing when Wade’s fingers brushed against him, the texture and heat of the man’s skin irresistible. Peter had to hold back the indecent noises clawing to escape his throat when Wade wrapped his hand around him and brought him close, their faces only inches apart. “There. S’that better?”

“Mm-hmm,” Peter hummed, not trusting his voice.

“Good.” Wade nuzzled his cheek into his pillow and closed his eyes, releasing a soft sigh. He ran his thumb over Peter’s abdomen in what seemed like a habitual movement, the digit eventually coming to rest in the center of Peter’s chest, right above his heart. “Night.”

“G’night,” Peter mumbled, hesitating before draping his arms around Wade’s thumb. He listened to the other’s deep, even breathing as the minutes ticked by, warmth slowly settling into his bones. Peter gave a content murmur, his eyelids drooping with the need for sleep. He released Wade’s digit just long enough to scoop up a decent amount of blankets to create a makeshift pillow. When he was satisfied with his work, Peter’s arms wrapped around the thumb once more and he relaxed into the mattress, sleep coming easily. 

The next morning found Peter and Wade in the kitchen, the mercenary turning sausage in a skillet while he sang bad showtunes and argued with his boxes about random topics. Peter sat on the kitchen counter nearby (but safely out of the ‘splash zone,’ as Wade called it) and observed the scene with an air of amused confusion. 

He recognized that Wade was trying to put off their Talk for as long as possible. And, even though it was slightly irksome, Peter figured it was only fair to give Wade time to prepare for their lengthy and sure-to-be-emotional discussion. 

Besides, it was obvious that Wade was uncomfortable with the entire situation; not just in his actions, but also in his choice of clothing. The man was still wearing his pajamas from last night, which wasn’t very strange in itself. However, he’d also chosen to put on one of his masks when they’d gotten out of bed that morning, which was highly unusual these days. After Wade had revealed his face to Peter all those months ago, the man had slowly grown more comfortable with Peter seeing his skin. For him to return to wearing one around the apartment was worrisome. 

It bothered Peter to see his friend hiding behind such a thing now, but he’d also recognized early on that wearing a mask was a coping mechanism for Wade. So instead of asking him to remove it, Peter decided to let Wade be. 

To be honest, the mercenary wasn’t the only one feeling anxious about their conversation. Peter wasn’t looking forward to it, either. He was both apprehensive and morbidly curious to know the gritty details of what Wade had done in the past, whether under SHIELD’s order or at his own discretion. And while Peter knew it would be hard to hear such things, he felt it was important for him to know the entire story before moving forward in his relationship with Wade.

He could only hope that the man had a decent argument for his actions. Otherwise, Peter may be forced to make a decision that neither of them would like.

“Yo, Earth to Petey!”

The sudden yell startled Peter out of his grave thoughts. His eyes focused on Wade, who was standing in front of him with a plate filled with sausage in one hand and a spatula in the other. 

“I’m sorry, I was thinking,” Peter said, trying to appear contrite. He knew he’d struck gold when Wade cooed at him. 

“That’s okay cutie booty! I was just asking how many sausages you wanted.” Wade wiggled his eyebrows suggestively as he spun the spatula in his hand.

Peter eyed the giant sausages pointedly, one eyebrow raised. “Um, I guess one, although I won’t be able to finish it.”

Wade tittered, his mask crinkling around his eyes. “Don’t worry, I got you covered!” He lowered the plate so Peter could see it better, and the fairy was pleasantly surprised to find that Wade had diced one of the sausages in several smaller pieces. 

“Oh!” Peter exclaimed, eyes lighting up. “Thank you!”

“No problemo! Lemme just get you a plate.” Wade set down his spatula and grabbed a small plate from the cupboard for Peter, placing it on the counter near the fairy. Then using the spatula, he daintily raked all the meat slices off his plate and onto Peter’s. “Bone apple tit!” 

Peter chuckled at the mispronunciation, shaking his head at Wade’s antics. For a brief moment he was tempted to correct the man, but he abandoned the thought almost immediately. It just wasn’t worth it. Besides, Peter had sausage to eat. 

They ate together in amicable silence with only the occasional joke or comment between them. It was apparent that both of them were nervous about what was to come once they finished breakfast, so they ate slowly and savored the calm, friendly atmosphere while it lasted. 

Peter finished first (his appetite was far less ravenous than Wade’s), and pushed away his half-empty plate to signal that he was done. He watched Wade as he continued to eat, the man shoveling food into his mouth at a worrying speed. Peter waited anxiously for his friend to eat his fill, the fairy’s heart thumping loudly in his ears from nerves. 

When Wade had cleared his plate and started going through the motions to prepare more sausage, Peter decided to just bite the bullet and get it over with.

“Wade,” Peter started carefully, studying the man for any signs of an impending retreat, “I think it’s time we had that Talk.”

Wade froze mid-movement, his eyes widening beneath his mask. He made several aborted gestures with his hands, clearly unsure what to do with them, but after another moment of indecision he chose to lay them flat on the counter to either side of Peter. When he spoke next, his normally upbeat tone sounded forced. “Oh really? You sure? ‘Cause I heard there’s going to be an awesome Planet Earth marathon on t.v. today, and I bet we can catch the first part if we hurry.”

 _...Dang_ , he was good. Wade had spent enough time with Peter to know that he couldn’t turn down a nature documentary, especially one narrated in the dulcet tones of a British man. 

But unfortunately for Wade, this discussion was more important to Peter than learning about the natural sciences. 

Besides, there were always re-runs.

“Nu uh, that’s not going to work,” Peter said, getting to his feet and wagging a finger at Wade. “We’re doing this whether you want to or not.”

Wade visibly deflated at the reprimand, his shoulders sagging. “Fine. But can we move this to the living room? It’s gonna take awhile.”

Peter nodded his assent and flew above Wade, following the man out of the kitchen and into the living room. The two of them reconvened at Wade’s worn-out armchair, the mercenary dropping onto the cushion without any preamble. He waited for Peter to land on his knee and get comfortable before asking, “Where should I start?”

“From the beginning.”

“Well, I was born in 1973 in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada-”

“Not that beginning!” Peter interrupted, sighing in exasperation. “I meant the beginning of your life as a mercenary.”

“You gotta be more specific with these things!” Wade argued, throwing his hands up in the air. 

“Wade!”

“Okay, okay! Fine,” the man grumbled, his arms falling back to the chair with a thump. “My un-aliving career started back when I was an unruly teenager. I joined the military for a short period of time, thinking I could make something of myself there, but I got kicked out for disciplinary reasons. With no other options, and since shooting a gun was all I was good for back then, I decided to put my skills to use and took on jobs greasing people who deserved it.”

Peter bit his lip at the clipped explanation, upset to hear that Wade’s life had been embroiled in death even in his youth. It was no wonder the man had no qualms with killing. “Were they bad people?” he asked, curious and mildly hopeful.

“The worst,” Wade assured him, shifting in his seat. “Rapists, murderers, drug pushers, the works. Believe me, Baby Boy, the world is better without them.”

Peter shifted his gaze to a random spot over Wade’s shoulder, his mind racing as he pondered the man’s response. It certainly sounded like the people Wade had dealt with in the past were villainous types - those that hurt others without a thought or care. But while Peter may agree that society could have benefited from their removal, he still objected to Wade’s methods. 

Surely the world would have been just as safe if they’d been locked in prison, right? 

“So you killed a bunch of criminals in your younger days,” Peter echoed, trying to gather his thoughts. His eyes slid back to Wade’s. “Was that when SHIELD contacted you?”

“Naw, SHIELD didn’t get involved until after I was turned into human roadkill.”

That took Peter by surprise. “You didn’t always look like this?”

Wade snorted. “Fuck no! I was hot as hell back in the day.” He leaned back and gave a wistful sigh, his head tilting to the side as he stared off into space. “Gorgeous locks of blond hair, muscles for days, and a jawline that could cut diamonds.” He blinked, his gaze re-focusing as he looked at Peter. “Trust me, I was one sexy motherfucker.”

“You’re still sexy,” Peter blurted before he could stop himself. His eyes widened a moment later and his face heated in embarrassment, his heart jumping into his throat at Wade’s stunned expression. “Uh, I mean, you’re not unattractive! You’ve still got muscles and the jawline and-!” Peter became more flustered the longer Wade stared. “And, and….and I’m going to shut up now,” he finished with a squeak, his voice dying in his throat.

Wade’s mouth opened and closed several times, his expression incredulous. “Wha-?”

“Please go on,” Peter interrupted, forcing himself to speak as he hid his face in his hands. “Please.”

Wade gawked at him for a few more tense seconds before taking pity on Peter and moving on. 

“Um, alrighty. Where was I? Oh yeah, roadkill.” He cracked his knuckles and shifted again, giving Peter the impression that he was growing anxious. “So, you see, back in my early days of mercenary-dom, things were going pretty well. I had the moneys, the honeys, and loads of free time. I made my own schedule, chose my own marks, and lived each day like it was my last.” He paused then, his eyes narrowing. “Yep, I had a bright, if inevitably short-lived, future ahead of myself.” 

Wade fell silent after that, his gaze becoming distant once more. Peter dropped his hands and watched Wade with growing trepidation, concern churning in his stomach. His earlier embarrassment forgotten, Peter waited for a beat to see if Wade would continue on his own. When it appeared that the other’s attention had turned inward, Peter leaned toward him and asked warily, “What happened?”

The mercenary swallowed, the sound almost deafening in the relative silence of the room. “Weapon X happened.”

“What’s Weapon X?”

“A group of asshole scientists with a chip on their shoulders and something to prove,” Wade elaborated, his words ending in a snarl.

Peter jerked back at the harsh statement, surprised at the vitriol in Wade’s tone. The fairy took a moment to gather himself before putting a gentle hand on Wade’s leg in an offer of support. 

“Scientists?” Peter repeated, searching Wade’s gaze. But that didn’t make any sense. What did a bunch of scientists want with Wade? Scientists were people like Bruce, Peter, and Tony - they worked together to make the world a better place. Why would someone involved in such a noble profession knowingly harm another person?

Wade nodded sharply at Peter’s question, his jaw clenched tightly under his mask. “Yes. Scientists. The kind you’d never want to meet in a dark alley. The kind that would cut you open just to see how you tick, and laugh while they watched you die.”

Peter gasped and covered his mouth in horror. The way Wade described them, it almost sounded like he was speaking from personal experience. “But - but I don’t understand,” Peter said, voice muffled by his fingers, “why would such...terrible people be interested in you? What did they want?”

“They wanted to turn me into a super soldier. Someone strong and capable, like Captain America, only more stabby and less moral.” Wade looked deep into Peter’s eyes. “They wanted the perfect killer.”

Peter licked his dry lips. “Are they the ones who gave you your scars?”

“Among other things.”

Peter was at a loss for words. He leaned forward and crawled up Wade’s leg until he could cling to the man’s waist, a low sob escaping his lips. “How? Why?” he finally managed, looking up at his friend with tears gathering on his lashes. 

Wade wordlessly wiped them away with his fingers, a pained smile on his face. “I’ll spare you the gritty details. All I’ll say is that they used me in their experiments to see if they could turn a regular human into a mutant with the right motivation.”

“Motivation?” Peter asked, sniffling lightly.

“Wolverine juice. Oh, and torture.” At Peter’s shocked silence, Wade shrugged in a bid to look nonchalant. “Yeah, it wasn’t pleasant. But to tell you the truth, I was already in a bad state to begin with, so part of me didn’t care what they did.”

Peter’s wings stiffened in alarm, his brain scrambling to process what he was hearing. “What do you mean by ‘bad state?’” he asked, dreading the answer.

Wade didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he took a few seconds to smooth the pad of his thumb over Peter’s cheek and into his hair, petting him gently while he gathered his thoughts. Peter watched him throughout the affectionate display, his heart thundering in his ears as he waited for Wade to continue. 

His next words left Peter breathless.

“I was dying,” Wade stated matter of factly, voice even. Like he’d accepted it. Like it didn’t matter. “I’d been diagnosed with a nasty form of cancer, and by the time the doctors found it, I was practically a dead man walking. I didn’t have long to live anyway, so when I heard rumors that the Weapon X guys were performing scientific miracles on terminally ill patients, I figured, ‘What the hell? What do I have to lose?’” 

Peter swallowed the lump in his throat as he reached out and touched Wade’s hand, his heart aching with sympathy for the man. He started to speak, but was quickly interrupted by Wade’s abrupt laughter, the sound catching Peter off guard. 

“Turns out I had more to lose than I thought,” Wade said between forceful giggles, his mirth swiftly dying down into humorless chuckles. 

Peter squeezed Wade’s finger reassuringly, his blurry gaze locked on the man’s hard features. It took him a couple seconds to parse what his friend had said, his mind buzzing with all the new information. His thoughts eventually settled on one detail in particular - something that didn’t mesh with what Wade had already explained. “‘Scientific miracles?’ I thought you said they were evil?”

“Fuck yeah, they were nasty. To quote the late Elvis Presley, they were devils in disguise.”

“Oh Wade,” Peter whispered morosely, tears spilling over his cheeks. “I’m so sorry.” To know that his friend had gone through such hardship, especially during such a trying time in his life, left Peter yearning to comfort him. For a brief moment he wished he was bigger, if only so he could wrap Wade up in his arms and never let him go.

Wade shushed Peter’s renewed sobs, his other hand coming down to rest against the fairy’s back. “Don’t worry yourself over my angsty backstory. What’s done is done - there’s no use crying over it now.” 

“But you suffered so much,” Peter blubbered, hiccuping. “I just...I hate seeing you hurt.”

“Baby Boy,” Wade murmured, gently plucking Peter’s hands from his own and bringing the fairy up to nestle under his masked chin, “I know you do, and I feel the same about you.” His fingers curled tighter around Peter’s body, and Wade’s jaw trembled as he said, “I swear, if I ever did anything that harmed you in any way, I don’t know what I’d do with myself.” 

Wade caressed Peter’s hair with his finger and took a deep breath in through his nose, releasing it slowly. “That’s why I waited so long to tell you the truth,” he confessed, voice wavering with emotion. “I knew it would upset you, and I kept putting it off because I didn’t want you getting hurt.”

Peter sniffed and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “You also said you thought I would abandon you.”

Wade sighed. “That, too.”

“I won’t abandon you, Wade,” Peter vowed, the tremor in his own voice giving way to a stronger edge. “I meant what I said last night. I care about you, and I want our relationship to move forward.” He hesitated then, brows furrowing as he thought carefully about his next words. “I want to see where this goes, but I can’t if you continue being a mercenary.”

“Killing is all I know how to do,” Wade murmured in a hushed whisper, sounding resigned.

“That’s not true,” Peter asserted, tipping his head back in an effort to see Wade’s face. He grunted when the man tucked him deeper beneath his chin, the material of his mask warm against Peter’s cheek. The fairy huffed in irritation, but inevitably let Wade have his way. 

“You have a lot to offer the world,” Peter continued, running his hands up and down the column of Wade’s throat. “You’re kind, brave, and you won’t hesitate to put yourself in danger to save the life of an innocent.” He hummed, a smile pulling at his lips. “I’d almost call your lack of self-preservation annoying if it weren’t one of your more noble attributes.”

Wade tilted his head curiously. “Huh. I didn’t know I had noble attributes.” 

“Wade-”

“But seriously Baby Boy, you’re giving me too much credit here,” he interrupted, nuzzling his chin against Peter’s head absently. “I’m not good in high-stress situations. I have no patience, I’m loud and obnoxious, and my anger gets the better of me more often than not.”

“I’m not asking you to become a Saint, Wade,” Peter said, picking at the man’s mask thoughtfully. “I understand that sometimes killing is an unfortunate inevitability-” 

He was startled when Wade gripped him tight in both hands and pulled him back until they were face-to-face, the man’s expression one of incredulity. 

“Oh, don’t give me that look,” Peter grumbled, crossing his arms haughtily over his chest. “I grew up in a forest, remember? I know about life and death, and the struggle to survive from one day to the next. But even though I understand that death is a normal part of life, I’d prefer that you only resort to killing in extreme circumstances. Alright?”

Wade stared at him stoically, appearing pensive. Peter could hear him mumbling under his breath, his words rushed and short, and assumed that Wade was in the middle of a discussion with his boxes. When it seemed that he’d reached a decision, Wade inclined his head toward Peter and said, “I don’t know, Pete. I’ve tried. I’ve tried so hard to be a hero - to be someone that others can look up to - but I always fall short.”

Peter dropped his arms to rest lightly on Wade’s thumbs, offering him a careful smile. “I know you’re trying, Wade. I see it everyday; how hard you work to be something more in the eyes of the world - of the Avengers.”

“And what good has it done me?” Wade demanded, his expression pained. “No matter what I do, people see me as nothing more than a murderer - a disposable soldier whose only use is to kill.”

“No,” Peter argued, squeezing Wade’s fingers. “You’re so much more than that.”

“You’re the only one who thinks so.”

“Then we’ll prove them wrong!” Peter leaned closer, his tears forgotten as he met Wade’s gaze through the mask. “No matter what it takes, we’ll show them all just how great you can be.”

Wade looked away, his breathing picking up in the heavy silence that fell over the room. He was still for several long seconds, the only movement the rise and fall of his chest, before finally returning his eyes to Peter’s.

“Okay,” Wade said in a small voice, unsure. “I’ll try.”

A relieved smile stole over Peter’s face, a phantom weight lifting from his shoulders at Wade’s declaration. “Good,” he said, straightening in Wade’s hold. He saw confusion in the other’s eyes, Wade clearly surprised at Peter’s easy acceptance.

“...That’s it? ‘Good’? Just like that?”

“Yes.”

“You’re...really going to stay?” Wade persisted, disbelief and awe clear in his tone.

Peter nodded and leaned forward, gesturing for Wade to come closer. When he timidly complied, the fairy pressed his forehead against Wade’s, his hands coming to rest on either side of the man’s nose. “Yes.” 

Wade swallowed roughly, his fingers twitching around Peter’s body before tightening marginally. “But, why?” he asked in a broken whisper. 

Peter leaned back just enough so he could look into Wade’s eyes. “Because you’re a good person,” he said, trying to convey the truth of his words through his gaze. “You take care of me, you make me laugh, and you encourage me to learn new things, even if you don’t understand them.”

Wade looked as though he wanted to protest, his eyebrows knitting together in a dubious frown. Peter reached out to run his hands along Wade’s brow, smoothing out the tension with a few passes of his fingers. 

“You’re kind and gentle when you need to be, but strong when a situation calls for it,” he continued in a decisive tone, leaving no room for argument. “And, even though you’ve made bad choices in the past, I believe that you can change. I believe you can be a hero.”

Wade closed his eyes and took in a harsh breath. “Really?”

“Of course.”

Wade shuddered, his jaw tightening as he tried and failed to hold in a sob. “Why do you have so much faith in me? Even the Avengers think I’m rotten. Why should you be any different?”

“Because you’re already a hero to me.”

Wade didn’t even bother trying to stifle his sobs now, his entire body shaking with the force of his sorrow. Peter consoled him with soft words and gentle touches, closing his eyes as he laid his cheek against Wade’s covered brow. 

“I told you before that I wouldn’t let what anyone else said about you affect our friendship,” Peter murmured, a lump forming in his throat. “I broke my promise to you once, but I swear I won’t do it again.” 

“Why?” Wade repeated, sniffling loudly.

“Because,” Peter started, taking a steadying breath. His heart raced as he forced the next words past his lips. “I love you, Wade.”

Wade jerked away at Peter’s admission, his eyes flying open. He stared at the fairy in stunned silence, his earlier distress completely forgotten. He opened his mouth several times as though to speak, but no words passed his lips. He made an aborted move to set Peter down, but seemed to change his mind at the last moment and instead shifted the fairy into one hand while the other reached up toward his mask.

Peter watched as Wade removed the mask with a shaky hand, the material catching on his wet cheeks. After a few failed attempts he managed to pull it off with a harsh tug, revealing his tear-streaked face and red, puffy eyes. 

Peter met his gaze head-on, unafraid of the terrified hope shining behind Wade’s gorgeous blue irises. 

“You do?” Wade murmured, his expression guarded. He held the mask loosely in his hand, appearing hesitant to let it go. 

Peter nodded, biting his lip as the lump in his throat grew. He felt new tears welling up in his eyes as he saw Wade’s face crumple, the man’s lip trembling as he brought Peter in for a gentle kiss. 

“Thank you,” Wade stammered between sobs, holding Peter tight as he finally broke down completely. “Thank you.”


	23. Firsts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY. Hey. Did ya'll notice the rating change on this fic? THAT'S RIGHT, HOMIES, this shit finally reached Smut Ville. Hold onto your butts, because there will be sex in future chapters from this point on. 
> 
> Enjoy~

In the days following their emotional discussion, Wade and Peter decided it would be best to take time out for themselves and enjoy a little rest and relaxation. Peter fell back into his nightly ritual of sitting with Wade and applying balm to the man’s irritated skin, while Wade took comfort in his own ritual of watching sitcom reruns into the wee hours of the morning. 

It didn’t take long for their relationship to return to the same easy camaraderie it had been before the whole SHIELD disaster. However, unlike before, Peter was now actively working to put a plan into motion that would steer their friendship in a more... _romantic_ direction. 

He’d taken to dropping light, easy kisses on Wade’s skin whenever the opportunity arose, and basking in his ability to catch the man off guard. Peter had also made a point of snuggling up to Wade as often as possible, and in every available room of the apartment. 

That meant that when Wade was in the kitchen making a snack, Peter would be there to nestle against his neck. When Wade was on the couch or in his recliner, Peter would plant himself on the man’s arm, leg, shoulder, or hip. And sometimes, when he was feeling bold, Peter would settle atop Wade’s chest right above his heart, prompting the other man to prop him up and cradle him with one of his large hands.

Wade’s initial reaction to Peter’s gentle touches had been similar to those he’d exhibited in the previous months - astonishment and surprise that slowly bled into hesitant acceptance. But after several days (and nights) of Peter upping the ante, Wade grew more accustomed to the intimate caresses. 

But while he became more accepting of Peter’s soft kisses and whispered words of affection, there was still one setback that Peter couldn’t ignore. 

Wade had yet to say, “I love you.”

Peter wasn’t sure why such a detail left him feeling unfulfilled. He knew that Wade had strong feelings for him - it was obvious in the way the man held him close and returned his kisses with a barely restrained hunger. But for whatever reason it wasn’t enough. Peter desperately wanted to hear those three words - to have his feelings validated and reciprocated verbally - but he was too afraid of shattering what little progress he’d managed to make with Wade by questioning his silence. 

And so Peter, too, remained silent on the matter; biding his time until the moment arrived when Wade’s true feelings came to light. 

 

Later that week, Peter and Wade were sitting at the kitchen table, eating breakfast and discussing their plans for the day, when Wade came up with a brilliant idea.

“Let’s go see a movie!” he shouted excitedly, half-chewed food flying from his mouth and landing on the table. 

Peter cringed at the sight, pushing his own food away as his appetite swiftly evaporated. But instead of commenting on Wade’s lack of manners (because honestly, it would do him no good), he asked, “Which movie? There’s a comedy on Channel 8 this afternoon, and an action movie marathon on Channel 286 that starts in another hour.”

“No, no, no, not _here_!” Wade said, jumping to his feet and rushing into the bedroom to get dressed, leaving a confused Peter amidst a mess of dirty dishes and leftover food. 

“Then where?” Peter shouted, hesitantly getting to his feet and fluttering out of the kitchen to follow Wade.

“The theater, Baby Boy!” Wade called back, his words accompanied by loud shuffling and thumps. 

Peter flew into the bedroom and came to a halt inside the doorway. He bit his lip to keep the grin off his face as he watched a flustered Wade tearing through the room and fumbling to pull on a pair of jeans. He was currently shirtless, the bare skin of his chest and torso on full display. Wade’s scars and scabs were particularly bad today, the sight dampening Peter’s amusement somewhat. 

“Why?” Peter asked, coming closer. “You haven’t been in the mood to go to the movie theater in a long time.” Which was true - Wade tended to prefer staying at home, where there was no one to stare at him in horror or sympathy. Peter found it odd that he’d suggest they go to such a place, _especially_ with Wade’s skin the way it was this morning. But then again, Wade was known for being unpredictable, so maybe this was just another one of his impromptu day plans?

While Peter had been pondering his friend’s reasoning, Wade had finished tugging his jeans on and was reaching into his dresser drawer to fish out a long-sleeved shirt. “Because it’ll be fun!” he said, turning to Peter and smiling toothily. “Come on Petey, let’s spend the day like the rest of middle America and partake in free air conditioning and overpriced popcorn!”

“And...watch a movie?”

“And watch a movie!”

Peter relented in the face of Wade’s enthusiasm, the fairy moving to his own closet and dresser to change out of his pajamas and into something more appropriate. He dressed swiftly, his attention switching between his task and the mercenary rushing around the room. Peter tried not to laugh as Wade put on his shoes, balancing on one socked foot while he slipped a sneaker on the other. 

“You doing okay over there?” Peter asked, pulling on a jacket.

“Doing great!” Wade answered, wobbling dangerously before promptly falling onto his face. 

Peter burst out laughing, his hands coming up to cover his mouth. 

“Owww,” Wade groaned comically from the floor, turning his head toward Peter. “That hurt.” He pushed out his bottom lip in a pout and rubbed his nose, his eyes watering. 

“Aww, poor baby,” Peter cooed, flying to Wade’s side to land daintily next to his elbow. “Are you okay?” He placed a hand on the man’s covered arm and rubbed up and down in a soothing motion.

Wade gave a pathetic sniffle. “I think so. Can you kiss it better?” He tapped the tip of his nose and leaned toward Peter, his lower lip wobbling. 

Peter rolled his eyes but ultimately gave in, moving closer and kissing the tip of Wade’s nose with a noisy smack of his lips. 

“Better?”

He giggled when Wade returned the kiss, the man’s warm lips pressing against the side of Peter’s head.

“Better.”

Wade pushed himself up from the floor and brushed off his clothes, his movements quick and efficient. This time he chose the safer route and sat on the bed while he put on his other shoe. Once he’d finished, he stood and rejoined Peter, stooping to pick up the fairy and cradle him in his palms.

“You ready to go?” 

Peter looked up at Wade fondly. The man had the cutest, dopiest grin on his face, and his eyes were bright as he waited for the fairy’s response. 

It was a wonder that Peter hadn’t fallen in love with him sooner. 

“Yeah, let’s go.”

Wade whooped excitedly and raced back into the living room, cupping Peter in one hand while he snatched up his wallet and keys. “Alright! Movie time!”

They reached the theater in record time, the front of the building relatively empty aside from a few early-morning patrons. The ticket-booth attendant was a bored-looking young woman in her twenties, her hair pulled back in a disheveled bun and her eyes on a magazine in front of her. She hardly acknowledged them as Wade stepped up to the booth, but the mercenary didn’t seem to care. His own attention was focused on the board above her head that listed the available movies and their showtimes.

“So what’ll it be, Petey? You wanna see an action movie? A comedy? A romance? Personally, I’m in the mood for a little Rom-Com action, myself.”

“You’re always in the mood for a Rom-Com,” Peter murmured from his spot nestled in Wade’s hand, his gaze studying the choices carefully. “What about that new Ryan Reynolds movie? That looks fun.”

Wade tapped his chin with his free hand. “Hmm, he does have a nice ass…” he mumbled, his head swiveling back and forth to take in all the movie titles. After a moment’s deliberation he shouted, “Okay! Ryan Reynolds’ ass, it is!”, the sudden noise scaring the daylights out of the poor booth worker.

The young woman jerked in her seat and looked at Wade, her expression switching from one of shock to horror when she got a good look at his scars. 

“W-what do you want?” she demanded in a wobbly voice, holding her magazine in front of her like a shield. 

Wade held two ungloved fingers up to the glass. “Two tickets for the next showing of _Ryan Reynolds Still Has a Career_ , please.”

The employee blinked stupidly at him, her gaze darting from Wade’s face down to his chest where she inevitably noticed Peter. The woman’s jaw dropped open and her eyes grew wide, one of her well-manicured hands coming up to rest against her cheek.

“Oh. My. _GOD_!” she cooed, dropping her magazine and leaning forward to peer at Peter through the dingy glass window, appearing to forget all about Wade for the time being. “Are you, like, a _real_ fairy?”

Peter raised a hand in greeting. “Yep! Real fairy, at your service.” He waited politely for her to ‘ooo’ and ‘aaah’ over him for a moment before interrupting gently. “Excuse me, but can we please have our tickets, now?”

The employee paused and looked around as though just now remembering where she was. “Oh! Oh yeah, sorry,” she said sheepishly, tapping a few buttons on her computer and tearing the tickets from the paper once they’d printed. She traded them with Wade for cash, her gaze lingering on Peter until he and Wade disappeared through the theater’s main entrance.

“I gotta say, you’re pretty handy sometimes, you know that?” Wade commented, tone light. He moved to the back of the line at the concession stand, ignoring the people who walked by and balked at his skin. 

Peter glanced at Wade over his shoulder. “What do you mean?” 

“When you’re around, I’m not the center of everyone’s attention.” 

Peter frowned, turning to look at the faces of the other theater patrons. Those who had noticed Wade were either outright staring or gawking at him from the corner of their eye. Peter frowned as he spotted some of them whispering to their friends and pointing at the mercenary, their expressions twisted in disgust. 

The fairy puffed up in righteous indignation, his wings flaring out as he rushed to stand atop Wade’s palm. His sudden movement drew the eyes of their audience, the people around them all going quiet at Peter’s disruption. Within seconds all of their scrutiny had shifted to Peter, the other moviegoers freezing in amazed wonder at the sight of him.

Peter stood tall, staring them all down with a severe glare. 

“Hey!” he shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice barely audible despite his best efforts. But it didn’t matter, because everyone watching shuffled closer in order to hear him better. “We’re not part of the show! So would you all kindly _mind your own business_ , please?”

The crowd jerked back in surprise before quietly dispersing one-by-one, having been thoroughly chastised. 

“See what I mean?” Wade whispered, bending down to put his mouth beside Peter’s ear. “Handy.”

Peter blushed, pride washing through him at the realization that he could be Wade’s hero, too. He nuzzled against the man’s lips and laid a kiss on the corner of his mouth, his heart fluttering when Wade hummed happily and his breath rushed through Peter’s hair. 

They ordered their popcorn and candy at the counter without any further disruptions, then checked in at the ticket agent and ambled into their assigned theater. The auditorium was empty, but there was still quite some time before the movie began (considering this was a last-minute idea and all), so Wade chose a seat at the back of the room and set Peter on his shoulder to relax while they waited. 

Luckily there weren’t any other patrons walking into the theater at this time of day, so Peter and Wade were free to chat and flirt openly well after the lights went down and the movie started. They joked and nuzzled against one another like a couple of teenagers, ignoring the vast majority of the film in favor of sharing soft kisses and lingering gazes in the dark. 

Feeling bold, Peter also took the opportunity to whisper tender words into Wade’s ear during the more romantic moments of the movie. Wade answered in kind, but thanks to his sinfully deep voice, his murmurs of ‘Baby Boy’ and other affectionate pet names left Peter with flaming red cheeks and a satisfying heat in his belly. 

They carried on throughout the film, and when they exited the theater two hours later, neither of them could remember the plot. 

Peter was all smiles as they made their way up the sidewalk, blind to the people passing by who were giving them odd looks. Wade wasn’t paying them any mind, either - the mercenary still in high spirits from their snuggle-fest in the back of the dark theater. 

Peter didn’t want the day to end, so when Wade suggested they get ice cream for lunch, he was quick to agree. They decided on a tiny parlor wedged between a pizza joint and a sandwich shop on the outskirts of Hell’s Kitchen, a place that Wade swore was one of the best in the city. The lobby was jam packed with people when they arrived, so Wade ordered a cup to go and the two took turns eating ice cream off the plastic spoon on their way to Central Park. 

They wandered along the winding paths through the trees for the remainder of the afternoon, just talking and enjoying the scenery. Peter chose to stay firmly planted on Wade’s shoulder as opposed to exploring the treetops like he normally would, the fairy far too comfortable to move. The heat of Wade’s skin was enough to chase away the bitter chill of autumn, and with his face pressed against the column of Wade’s throat, Peter could feel the vibrations running through him whenever the man spoke. 

It was perfect.

But as night fell and the air cooled to an uncomfortable degree, Wade called for an end to their leisurely stroll and hailed a cab once they’d returned to the street. The apartment was a welcome sight after a long day, and once they’d changed into their pajamas, Peter and Wade grabbed some leftover Chinese from the fridge and sat in the cushy chair in the livingroom to watch t.v.

“How you feeling, Petey? Did you have a good day?” Wade asked, slurping noodles off his chopsticks. 

“Mmmhmm,” Peter hummed, leaning forward to nibble on a piece of beef when Wade offered. “It was wonderful.”

“Good, good. I wanted to make sure we did something fun for our first official date.”

Peter choked on his food. “D-date?” he sputtered, coughing to clear his windpipe. 

Wade set the take-out box onto his lap and turned his head to look at Peter out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah! I figured, you know, since you decided to stick around, that I should take you out. Officially.” 

Peter blushed at the implication. “You mean like boyfriends?”

Now it was Wade’s turn to blush. “Yeah, like boyfriends. If you want.”

Peter laughed, overjoyed at Wade’s use of the term. This had to mean that Wade wanted to move forward in their relationship, as well. 

“Of course I do!” Peter said, hugging Wade’s neck. “I’ve wanted to be your boyfriend for awhile.”

“Really?” the man pushed, a careful hopefulness entering his tone. “You really want to be my boyfriend?”

Peter nodded, his cheek brushing Wade’s scarred skin. “Yes.”

Wade was silent for several seconds, his deep breaths the only sound besides the muffled voices from the t.v. 

“Okay,” he finally said, soft and shy, returning to his food. “Boyfriends it is.”

They watched t.v. together well into the night, eventually retiring when Peter’s eyelids became heavy. Wade smiled at the fairy as he gently plucked him from his shoulder and carried him into the bedroom, placing Peter gently on his tiny bed. 

“You need anything before we hit the hay, Petey?”

Peter yawned wide, his eyes watering with the need for sleep. “No, I’m fine,” he mumbled, climbing under the covers and getting comfortable. “G’night.”

“Good night, Baby Boy.”

Peter listened passively as Wade moved about the room, turning out the lights and getting into bed. He heard the rustle of Wade’s sheets and the man’s deep, even breaths as he settled in for the night, the bedsprings creaking momentarily before going still. When Wade eventually fell silent and all that remained was the muted noise of the city beyond the bedroom, Peter closed his eyes and fell into an easy sleep.

Peter’s unconscious mind drifted between vivid dreams and empty darkness, and it seemed as though only minutes had passed before he was suddenly awoken by an odd sound. Peter blinked blearily around himself and sat up in his bed, the sheets pooling at his waist. He rubbed his eyes and squinted into the darkness, his sleep-addled brain trying to make sense of what he was hearing.

It was a strange, slick noise, like someone rubbing lotion on skin. Peter’s brows furrowed as he continued to listen, curiosity drawing him out of bed and to the edge of his tiny home. His bare feet pattered lightly over the floor, but he could barely discern it over the rhythmic _schlip-schlip-schlip_ coming from the other side of the room. 

It took him a moment to pinpoint the source of the sounds, his head turning to the side and his wings perked in intrigue. The noises ultimately led him to Wade, who Peter could barely make out among the shadows. 

The fairy studied the man thoughtfully, confused to see him leaning against his headboard with his knees splayed beneath the sheets. There was movement under the blanket between Wade’s legs that appeared to coincide with the sounds, but it wasn’t until the mercenary tilted his head back with a low groan that Peter realized exactly what was happening.

Peter’s face heated and he slapped his hands over his mouth to hold in an embarrassed gasp. He ducked down and hid behind the wall of his home, his heart racing as he stared wide-eyed into the gloom. 

Holy crap, Wade was... _touching himself_! And he wasn’t exactly being subtle about it, either. 

Peter swallowed thickly and pressed himself against the wall, the chill of it causing him to shiver. He bit his lip and curled into a tight ball, his body filled with a nervous energy. Indecision kept him frozen in place, but his mind was racing with both fear and arousal. 

Peter wasn’t innocent - he’d done his fair share of experimenting during puberty. (Behind closed doors, and _far_ away from his aunt and uncle.) He had no trouble understanding what Wade was doing, but what he couldn’t wrap his head around was the fact that it was _Wade_.

 _Wade_ was masturbating in the same room as Peter. 

_Wade_ was touching himself in the dark. 

_Wade_ was panting and groaning and _oh god_ , what should he _do_? 

Peter had never seen or heard Wade performing such an... _intimate_ activity before, so why now? Had Wade done this type of thing in the past and just never been caught? 

The fairy drew his knees up to his chest and rocked back and forth, shame washing through him at the growing hardness in his pajama pants. He tried to keep his breathing steady and his mind off his arousal, but it was difficult as the sounds of Wade’s pleasure intensified. Peter wasn’t sure if Wade was even aware of just how loud he was being, but perhaps in his current condition the mercenary didn’t care.

But Peter cared. _A lot_. 

He wiggled and pushed his thighs together in an attempt to stymie his erection, but the stimulation and pressure combined with the _schlip_ of Wade’s activities only spurred him on. Peter sunk his teeth into his lower lip to keep his own whine at bay, his hands gripping tightly to the hem of his shirt in a final attempt to keep his dignity. But he was weak, _helpless_ in the face of his arousal, and it was only a matter of time before Peter caved under the strength of his need. 

The fairy leaned back so he could pull at the hem of his pants and slide a hand inside, a soft groan escaping his lips at the first touch of fingers on hot skin. Peter gripped himself loosely in his fist, his erection throbbing beneath his palm. He released a long, unsteady breath, his head dropping to the side so he could press his forehead to the wall. It wasn’t a comfortable position by any means, but Peter was in no state of mind to care about such an inconsequential detail. 

He shimmied his pants down his hips one-handed to free his length, biting off a keening moan when it sprung up and slapped his belly. The tip was an angry red color, and Peter could see and feel it jerk in response to his frantic heartbeat. He risked squeezing the base and gasped, biting the knuckle of his other hand to try and smother the noise. Shivers wracked his body and arousal shot up his spine as he started thrusting into the tight channel of his fist, his wings fluttering to help keep his balance. 

Peter lost himself in the act, his hips stuttering and his fingers moving deftly over his heated flesh, the action eased by the pre-cum leaking from his tip. His cock twitched under his ministrations and Peter moaned behind his fingers, trying to keep his voice in check. 

It would be horribly awkward for Wade to discover Peter right now, with his face beet red, his hand on his cock, and his lips puffy and bruised from his own teeth. Though to be honest it probably didn’t matter if he was careful, since Wade’s near constant grunts and heavy breaths were enough to drown out any of Peter’s own sounds of pleasure. 

But the convenience of having Wade there to muffle Peter’s own embarrassing noises was lessened somewhat by the fact that the lewd display was going straight to Peter’s dick. It jerked after a particularly harsh groan from Wade, a bead of pre-cum dribbling down Peter’s length and over his knuckles. Peter’s jaw dropped open on an answering moan, the hand on his member quickening its pace. He could feel sweat on his brow as his body temperature rose, the chill of the New York air outside a distant memory. 

Peter laid his flushed cheek firmly against the dollhouse’s wall to try and stave off the stifling heat, the cool surface a welcomed relief on his skin. The rest of his body soon followed, leaving Peter on his knees and pressed against the wall, one hand fisting his cock while the other pushed his nightshirt up to his chin. The sudden air hitting his chest was pleasant, but it did nothing to quell the fire burning in his veins. 

Peter continued to work himself over in time with Wade’s grunts, the wet slide of the man’s hand over his length matched by the sounds of Peter’s own self-pleasure. The fairy whined when he heard a telling moan from Wade, causing Peter’s pace to quicken. He could sense that Wade was getting close to his release, and since Peter didn’t want to be the only one in the room with his dick in his hand, he needed to finish in a hurry.

Peter pumped his length furiously and closed his eyes, allowing the noises of their combined passion to wash over him. His imagination went wild, teasing Peter with images of what he and Wade could be doing right now if only he had the courage to ask. He heard Wade come moments later, his sudden curse and intake of air signaling his orgasm. The realization of what had just happened tipped Peter over the edge as well, and he bit his lip bloody to hold back his shout as thick ropes of cum shot from his pulsing cock and onto the wall in front of him.

It took Peter quite some time to come down from his pleasure-induced high, his breaths heavy and his wings drooping in sleepy satisfaction. He could hear Wade moving about, climbing out of bed and walking to the bathroom to wash his hands. Peter took the opportunity to clean himself up as well, removing his shirt and using it to wipe the evidence of his activity off the wall. He also gave his hand and his sensitive length a quick rub down, then tossed the soiled shirt onto the floor and crawled back into bed. 

Peter pulled his sheets tight around his shoulders and closed his eyes, listening hard to discern Wade’s movements. He heard the telltale sound of the sink being shut off, followed by Wade’s bare feet on the wooden floor as he made his way back to bed. Peter held his breath when Wade walked past the dresser, hoping and praying that the man hadn’t noticed his audience.

But to Peter’s relief Wade didn’t say or do anything, just returned to bed like nothing had happened and promptly fell asleep, his breaths deep and even once more. 

Peter exhaled slowly in relief and rolled onto his other side, putting his back to Wade. His cheeks were still flaming with residual embarrassment and arousal, but he felt wholly satisfied in a way he hadn’t in a very long time. He opened his eyes and stared blankly at the opposite wall, biting his nails as he thought about the ramifications of what he and Wade had just shared.

When Peter had envisioned a more serious relationship with Wade, the idea of them having sexual relations had certainly crossed his mind. But he never would have expected such a thing to happen so soon after his confession, and certainly not under these circumstances. In all honesty, Peter wasn’t sure how to feel about it - especially since Wade wasn’t aware that Peter had seen him. 

The fairy sighed, closing his eyes and snuggling into his pillow. They needed to have a talk about what just happened and what it could mean for their future together. A serious talk. An adult talk.

But that could wait until morning.


	24. New Experiences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL THEN.
> 
> I'm back! Sorry about the long wait between chapters. I was working on this chapter intermittently, then got distracted for a solid three weeks while I was editing a novel for publication. Finally got that done and posted on Amazon (you can find it [here](https://www.amazon.com/Wayfare-J-Snow-ebook/dp/B07FRVT9HK/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1533536223&sr=8-2&keywords=wayfare), if you're interested in LGBTQ Mad Max Universe stuff), so I could focus on this fic again.
> 
> Also, in case there is any confusion as to the size differences in this fic, I wanted to provide a visual for how I picture Peter. He's heavily based off the pixies in the new Tinkerbell movie series, so if you haven't seen those yet, here is a cover to one of them that shows the height difference between Tinkerbell and a human child:
> 
>  
> 
>   
> 
> 
> Hope this helps!

The next day it took Peter three solid hours of anxious internal debate before he had the courage to confront Wade. 

They were sitting together in the living room, Wade on the couch and Peter on the coffee table. Both were dressed for the day in comfortable clothing, and Wade had chosen to forego his mask and gloves so he could better fixate on his current task. He’d arranged several guns on the cheap wood next to Peter, their parts having been carefully removed and laid out in neat lines. Wade was in the middle of cleaning each one with a greased rag, his brows furrowed in concentration. 

It was odd to see him so focused on a task that didn’t involve Bea Arthur or food, and Peter was almost sorry that he had to interrupt him.

“Wade,” he started hesitantly, pausing to see if he had the man’s attention.

Wade hummed in response, clearly distracted. He was wiping down the barrel of his pistol, falling just short of caressing it.

“I need to talk to you about last night.”

The mercenary froze, his expression shifting between concern and forced nonchalance. “What, uh...what do you mean?” he asked, not looking up from his work. His movements became decidedly more stiff and calculated, an indication that Wade’s focus was elsewhere.

“Last night. I um...welI…” Peter ran a hand through his hair and looked past the other man. “I...heard you.”

Wade swallowed and cleared his throat. “Heard me? You mean, like, snoring?” He set his pistol down on the coffee table and wiped the grease off his hands with the rag. “Sorry, Baby Boy, didn’t mean to keep you up,” he said, chuckling nervously. He still hadn’t looked up from his hands. “But don’t worry, I’ll buy nose plugs or something.”

“No, not snoring,” Peter corrected in a tight voice, forcing himself to look at Wade. He stared hard at the other’s forehead before blurting out, “I heard you m-masturbating.”

Wade blanched, his gaze rising momentarily only to fall back to his lap. “What?” he squeaked, his fingers fumbling with the rag. “I, uh, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Masturbation, Wade,” Peter repeated, his cheeks hot. He really didn’t want to have to spell this out, but it appeared that Wade was going to be difficult. “You were touching yourself. Sexually. Last night.”

Wade coughed into his fist and curled into himself, his shoulders slumping. “Oh. You, uh...you heard that, huh?”

“Yeah,” Peter muttered, shifting uneasily. “You weren’t exactly quiet.”

Wade sighed and bowed his head further, tossing the rag onto the coffee table. “Fuck. I’m sorry,” he said, sounding upset. “I didn’t mean for you to overhear that. I hope I didn’t weird you out or traumatize you for life.”

Peter shook his head hurriedly and climbed to his feet, taking a step forward. “No, no, of course it didn’t.”

Wade plucked at the fabric of his pants, his eyes darting up to watch Peter shyly. “It didn’t?”

“No. Actually, to be honest, I kind of...liked it,” Peter admitted, tucking a stray lock of hair behind his ear as he forced himself to meet Wade’s gaze.

Wade was silent for several long seconds, his breaths stuttering to a halt and his limbs rooted in place. Peter studied Wade’s every move for signs of discomfort, his stomach fluttering. He wasn’t sure what to expect from the other man, and the continued silence was putting him on edge.

“Say something,” Peter urged, fidgeting awkwardly. 

“...Baby Boy,” Wade began in an awed tone, leaning back on the couch, “for the first time in my life, I don’t know what to say.”

Peter bit his lip and scuffed his shoe on the table’s surface. “Is it...bad? That I liked it?”

“No, no!” Wade said, bending forward to cup Peter delicately between his palms. “It’s not bad! Just...unexpected.”

“Why? I already told you that I wanted to stay and take our relationship further.”

“Yeah, but-”

“And you said yourself that we’re boyfriends now,” Peter continued, gaining confidence the longer he spoke. “So why would it be unexpected for me to like such a thing?”

Wade shifted in his seat, his brow furrowed in what appeared to be deep thought. “It’s just...I dunno, I guess I’m still trying to wrap my head around the idea that you’re not disgusted with, you know, this,” he said, gesturing to his face and body. “Most people aren’t cool with my appearance. Doubly so if I’m naked and sporting a raging stiffy.”

“I’m not most people,” Peter countered, folding his arms defensively. 

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“And I don’t care about your skin condition. I already told you that.”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“Then why are you acting so weird about this?” Peter demanded, throwing his arms up in exasperation. 

Wade ran a hand over his bald head. “Why aren’t you acting _more_ weird about this?” he shot back, scooting closer so he could rest his elbows on his knees. “Seriously, Pete, no offence, but you’re like, the epitome of adorable innocence. You’re purer than Columbian cocaine.”

Peter rolled his eyes and tried to interrupt, but Wade spoke over him.

“Hear me out,” he said, leaning down to put his face closer to Peter. “I know you’re not a baby, but I also know that you’ve lived the majority of your life in the rural English countryside with nothing but deer and bunnies for company. So forgive me if I’m not exactly up to snuff when it comes to your adventures in the bedroom.”

Peter frowned but decided not to argue. The man had a point. However, while it was true that Peter didn’t have a long list of sexual experiences (and none involving another person), that didn’t mean that sex frightened or disturbed him. Quite the contrary, in fact. Last night had proven that Peter’s body had no qualms with finding pleasure in Wade’s, and although he wasn’t quite sure what a sexual relationship with the man would entail, Peter was eager to experiment.

“I’m not afraid or ashamed of sex,” Peter started slowly, brushing his fingers over Wade’s palm affectionately. “I want to see where our relationship goes, and I wouldn’t be opposed to us becoming intimate.”

“Intimate,” Wade deadpanned, his eyes boring into Peter’s.

“Physically.”

“Peter-”

“Wade,” Peter pressed, moving closer to place his hands on the other’s chin, “I want this. Can’t we at least try?”

“But...why?” Wade wondered aloud, his brow furrowing. 

Peter was taken aback. Hadn’t they already gone over this? “What do you mean, ‘why?’” 

“I mean,” Wade fumbled, clearly distressed, “why would you want something like that with _me_?”

Peter took a step back and lowered his arms, his wings drooping. He searched Wade’s gaze, his heart plummeting when he realized that Wade still doubted the depth of Peter’s affection for him. 

“I already told you,” Peter murmured, moisture building behind his eyes. “I _love you_. That’s why I stayed in New York. Not because of the city, or the Avengers, or even your extensive cable package.”

Wade sniffed and ran his thumb along Peter’s side. “My package _is_ pretty amazing.”

“What I’m saying is that I want to be with you,” Peter continued, steamrolling over Wade’s attempt at humor. 

Silence fell over the room after his declaration. Wade shuffled around in his seat, his slightly-reddened eyes bouncing around the room as he tried to regain his composure. When his gaze returned to Peter, Wade searched the fairy’s eyes carefully. 

“Are you sure?”

Peter nodded. “I’m sure.”

“You swear you won’t puke?”

“I won’t puke!” 

Wade swallowed and licked his lips, his eyes glistening from his own unshed tears. “Okay,” he whispered shakily, reaching to caress Peter’s cheek with his fingertip. “If that’s what you want.”

Peter gave a relieved laugh, grinning as he darted in and stood on his toes to kiss Wade’s upper lip. He sniffled lightly and wiped his eyes, forcing his malaise aside. “Alright!” he said, wings perking with renewed vigor. “Where do you want to start?” 

“Wha- _Now_? 

“Yes, now!”

Wade looked decidedly uncomfortable. “I-I don’t know, Petey. Don’t you think this is a little sudden?”

Peter gaped up at him. “ _Sudden_? You were the one yanking your doodle last night with me in the same room,-” 

Wade snorted and choked on a giggle. 

“-so be happy I’m giving you a heads-up! Now, are we going to do this or not?” 

Wade gawked at the tiny fairy on his coffee table, his lips parted in shock. 

“Well?” Peter demanded, setting his hands on his hips and tilting his head back in a challenge. “I’m game if you are.”

“...You’ve been watching too many cop dramas.” 

“Wade!” Peter snapped, stomping his foot. “Focus!”

“Alright, alright! Calm down, you horny little demon! I’m thinking.” Wade ran a hand over his face and took a steadying breath. “Let’s start with a kiss.”

Peter blinked, his features softening. “A kiss?”

“Yeah!” Wade said, laying his palms flat on the table to either side of Peter. “Kissing is always a good jumping-off point.”

“But...we’ve already kissed.” Peter couldn’t help the slight disappointment that crept into his voice. 

“Not like this!” Wade assured him. “I’m not talking about your normal, run-of-the-mill, _Leave it to Beaver_ kisses, Petey. I’m talking about the kind of kisses that bump your movie up from PG-13 to a soft R-rating.”

Peter was sceptical. “What’s the difference?”

“Contact, Baby Boy. Good ol’ fashioned face-to-face and hand-to-butt contact.”

Peter wet his lips and played with the hem of his shirt, his mind latching onto Wade’s words and running wild. He felt a warm heat settle low in his belly at the thought of being so close to Wade - to have the man’s hands on him in such an intimate way. It was certainly different from what they’d done up until now, and even though it was relatively tame in comparison to Wade’s activities last night, it was definitely a step in the right direction.

“Okay,” Peter agreed with a shy grin. “I’m in favor of butt-touching.”

Wade laughed and slid off the couch to kneel in front of Peter. “My kind of man!” He cupped his palms around the fairy once more and corralled him to the middle of the coffee table. This position gave Wade room to lean his upper body over the table and rest his elbows on its surface. When his hands curled closer, the tips of his fingers barely brushing Peter’s body, the sensation caused a shiver to run through the fairy.

“If you’re uncomfortable with any of this, just say the word and I’ll stop,” Wade whispered, his face so close Peter could feel the man’s breath ghosting through his hair. 

Peter nodded, knotting his fingers together nervously. “I will.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

Wade’s expression softened into an affectionate smile. “Good.” He caressed Peter’s sides with his thumbs, his fingers settled securely along the fairy’s spine. “Then let’s get this make-out train rollin’.”

Peter licked his lips and tilted his head back in invitation, his eyes fluttering shut as Wade drew near. He gasped at the first contact of their mouths, the feather-light touch of Wade’s rough skin sparking a familiar heat in his belly. Peter sighed and pressed open-mouthed kisses along Wade’s bottom lip, grinning when he felt the other’s breath catch. 

“So far this is pretty standard,” Peter mumbled, laying his hands on Wade’s chin. “I thought you said this wasn’t going to be an ordinary kiss.”

“Patience, Petey,” Wade replied, his voice a low rumble. It gave Peter goosebumps. “We’re just getting started.”

Peter jumped as he felt a touch on his bottom, Wade’s fingers stroking gently over the sensitive area. He didn’t realize that he’d gone completely still until he heard Wade ask, “You okay?” 

“Y-Yeah,” Peter said, laying another kiss to Wade’s bottom lip. He tried to keep his focus on his task, but it was difficult when Wade’s fingers were doing wonderful things to his body. He felt a puff of air on his face as Wade chuckled, clearly finding amusement in Peter’s fumbling attempts at a kiss. 

It wasn’t fair. Considering Wade’s size in comparison to his, the mercenary was able to rub and fondle multiple areas of Peter’s body at once. How could anyone expect Peter to keep his wits about him when he had fingers stroking in tandem over his head, back, wings, butt, and thighs? It was a sensation overload, and Peter’s mind was racing just to keep up. 

Peter jerked in surprise when something wet brushed along his cheek. “Wh-wha?” 

He watched, entranced, as Wade pulled back and his tongue disappeared behind his lips. 

“Sorry,” Wade mumbled, his eyelids heavy. “Too much?” 

Peter shook his head, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. “No, it’s fine. It just surprised me, that’s all.”

Wade hummed and nuzzled his nose into Peter’s hair. “Good.” He tilted his head to lay a kiss on Peter’s cheek. “Remember, if I do anything that makes you uncomfortable, let me know.”

“Okay.”

Wade continued kissing and caressing Peter, his tongue coming into play on more than one occasion. Peter’s senses were overwhelmed with Wade’s scent and taste, and the sensation of the man’s touch along his body was slowly driving him mad. Within minutes Peter was panting, his lips tingling from overstimulation and his pants painfully tight. 

“W-Wade,” Peter started, breath catching when the other man lifted his shirt with a thumb and lapped at his stomach. “I’m...I’m getting, uh…”

“Hard?” Wade supplied, drawing back to stare heatedly at Peter’s obvious erection. 

Peter knew his face must be scarlet. “Yes.”

“Do you want to stop?” Wade met his gaze, expression gentle. 

“No.”

“Do you want me to keep going? Or do you want to go back to our regular kisses?”

When Peter didn’t answer right away, Wade pressed the tip of his thumb to Peter’s cheek, his eyes soft. “It’s up to you, Baby Boy. If you want to keep going, I’m all for it. If you want to take things slow, we can stop right now - no strings attached and with no expectations.”

Peter stood quietly as he considered the offer, his heart beating steadily in his ears. “Keep going,” he said finally, proud that his voice only shook for a moment. “I told you before - I want this. I want to be with you.”

Wade studied Peter’s face, his eyes boring into Peter’s own, before eventually saying, “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

Wade paused for another few seconds, probably to give Peter time to rethink his decision. But when Peter failed to back down, Wade leaned in to resume lavishing attention to Peter’s lower abdomen. He kept Peter’s shirt hiked up to his collarbone, the pad of his thumb brushing lasciviously against the fairy’s nipples. 

Peter grasped Wade’s thumb out of instinct, his knuckles white with the strength of his grip. He was panting; chest heaving in an attempt to catch his breath. His wings fluttered in random bursts behind his back, the delicate membranes brushing along the tops of Wade’s fingers. His hips bucked when Wade’s chin bumped into his groin, the momentary contact a shock to Peter’s system. He gasped, his mouth falling open and head tilting back. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly and tried to stay still, fighting against his growing lust and the desperate need to move. 

Peter’s arousal spiked with every swipe of Wade’s tongue, the mercenary’s breath hot on his skin. He bit his lip in an attempt to stifle his groans, but it was difficult; especially when Wade was doing nothing to curb his own sighs of pleasure. 

“Ah, Wade,” Peter gasped, his erection straining against the cheap fabric of his pants. “I-I’m close!”

Wade hummed in response, the vibrations going straight to Peter’s dick. He gave one final lick to Peter’s stomach before drawing back, gazing at the fairy through hooded eyes. 

“How do you wanna do this?”

Peter stared up at Wade in a daze, his thoughts fuzzy. It took a second for his brain to process the question. 

“...Huh?” 

“How do you wanna get off, Baby Boy?”

Peter balked. “I, uh...,” he started, fumbling for words and still out of breath. “W-what did you have in mind?”

Wade licked his lips, the movement capturing Peter’s attention. “I was thinking along the lines of a blowjob,” he said, tone casual like it wasn’t a big deal. “That or a single-digit handy, if you’re not feeling super adventurous.”

“You’d...be okay with that?” 

“Petey, I’m up for anything. If you want me to suck your dick, all you gotta do is ask.”

Peter’s mouth went dry. He gazed up at Wade with wide eyes, his heart thudding in his chest. He couldn’t deny that he was tempted by the offer. Peter had come across information about such acts during his three-day stint on the internet (because honestly, how could he not), but beyond a few embarrassing video clips and some late-night fantasies, he hadn’t thought much about it. 

Now, though - now he couldn’t think of anything else.

Peter bit his lip, his cock twitching. Wade’s words repeated over and over in his head, and his imagination ran wild. Peter shifted beneath Wade’s palms as his thoughts descended into depravity, the warmth of the other man’s skin almost overwhelming. Peter gasped when the material of his pants pulled taut over his crotch at the movement, and he squeezed his eyes shut against another wave of pleasure. When he opened them again, Peter forced himself to meet Wade’s gaze, the mercenary still waiting patiently for a response.

“I want to try it,” Peter whispered, clutching Wade’s thumb firmly. 

The mercenary grinned. “That’s what I like to hear!” He lifted Peter off the coffee table and sat back on the floor, his legs criss-crossed in front of him. “One B.J., comin’ right up.”

Peter groaned and hid his face behind his hands, embarrassed. “That’s got to be the most unsexy way you could have phrased that.”

“Oh really? What about, ‘It’s time for a hotdog eating contest’?”

“Ew.”

“‘I’m gonna take you down to Throat Town’?”

Peter shivered behind his hands. “That sounds disgusting.”

“Hey, no one ever said sex was glamorous!”

Actually, a lot of people did, but Peter wasn’t about to keep that particular conversation going. Instead he lowered his hands to grip Wade’s thumbs once more, his feet dangling beneath him. Peter caressed Wade’s skin absently, giving an experimental wiggle in the other’s grip to try and get a bit of friction on his aching length. He gave up when his hips only met open air. 

When Peter glanced up, his cheeks heated as he realized that Wade had noticed his dilemma.

“Got a problem, Petey?” Wade murmured, voice sensual. “Here, let me.” He transferred Peter into a single hand while the other worked to pull the fairy’s pants down to his knees. Peter’s breath hitched when the cool air of the room hit his bare skin, his cock twitching. Wade shot him a devious smile, then brought Peter up to his face and pressed the flat of his tongue against the fairy’s length. Peter cried out at the sensation, a shiver racing up his spine as Wade began to lap along his skin in soft, shallow strokes. The warmth of his tongue felt heavenly on Peter’s heated flesh, and the pressure on his groin left him gasping. 

“Ah!” Peter moaned, doubling over and squeezing Wade’s thumb in a vice grip. The other man hummed at the reaction and laid an open mouthed kiss on Peter’s groin, his free hand working to remove Peter’s shoes and pants completely. Wade shucked them carelessly to the floor once he was finished and returned to lavishing Peter’s erection with his tongue. 

Peter threw his head back and bit his lip harshly to hold back his whimpers, his eyes squeezing shut at the overwhelming pleasure flooding his body. He writhed in Wade’s hold, eventually settling his heels on the man’s jaw to find some kind of purchase. Wade didn’t seem to mind the touch, far too focused on the fairy unravelling in his hands to pay attention to anything else. 

It wasn’t long before Peter felt his muscles tensing and his testicles pulling tight against his body. His toes curled against Wade’s skin and his wings fluttered mindlessly behind his back, his nerves on fire with his impending orgasm. Peter gathered his senses long enough to focus on Wade, gazing upon the man’s relaxed features through heavy lids. Wade appeared completely in his element, his eyes closed in rapture and his cheeks slightly discolored from his own blush. He was moaning low in his throat and would take deep breaths through his nose whenever he paused, pulling back once or twice to lick excess moisture from the corners of his mouth. 

Peter hesitated to speak, not wanting to startle Wade from his own pleasure. However, the insistent throb of his dick was a jarring reminder that he was embarrassingly close to the edge. 

“Wade,” Peter started, swallowing in an attempt to soothe his dry mouth, “Hold on. I’m gonna-! Nn! I’m gonna come!”

Wade gave a preoccupied groan and slid his tongue along the underside of Peter’s balls, the pressure causing stars to burst behind Peter’s eyelids. The fairy arched his back and moaned, his hips bucking into the warm touch. 

“Wade, I-” Peter choked on a breath and his feet slid higher up Wade’s jaw when the man tilted his head back and wrapped his entire mouth around Peter’s groin, his tongue sliding over Peter’s perineum to brush against his ass. Peter shouted and bucked into Wade’s tongue, unsure whether to push his hips forward or back. He laid a steadying hand on Wade’s forehead, the man’s skin hot under his touch. 

Wade murmured and brought his tongue back to Peter’s erection. He lavished it with long licks and light sucking until it pulsed, swelling momentarily before releasing a shower of cum over Wade’s lips and tongue. Wade hummed happily as he licked his lips and swallowed, the sight causing Peter’s length to twitch and give one final spurt. 

Peter collapsed in Wade’s hold, his wings drooping with exhaustion. He could feel his limbs shaking with the strength of his orgasm, a short bout of dizziness overtaking him as he came down from his pleasure-induced high. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths until he’d recovered somewhat, then looked up to meet Wade’s gaze. He studied the man’s flushed cheeks and slick lips and offered him a weak grin. 

Wade wiggled his eyebrows lasciviously. “Well? How’d I do?”

Peter giggled, still a bit lightheaded. “Good.”

“Glad to hear I still got skills!” Wade flashed Peter a cheeky smile and pushed himself up onto his knees. He scooted back until he found the edge of the couch and flopped onto it, holding Peter aloft as he shimmied up the cushions and made himself comfortable. Once he was in place, Wade sat Peter down on his knee and brushed his thumb along the fairy’s temple, his other hand helping to keep Peter steady.

Peter startled at Wade’s touch, surprised to feel just how much sweat was clinging to his hair and skin. He blushed when he realized that he was still mostly naked, his shirt the only article of clothing that had survived Wade’s attentions. Peter glanced over his shoulder and spotted his discarded pants on the floor, his shoes and socks thrown haphazardly next to them. 

“Hey Wade,” he started, turning to the mercenary, “can you--” Peter hesitated, his sentence tapering off when his eyes drifted to the obvious bulge in Wade’s pants. His eyes widened at the stark reminder that Wade hadn’t finished yet. 

“Hm?” Wade rumbled in return, watching Peter curiously. “What is it?”

“Uh,” Peter murmured, his cheeks blazing, “do you want me to...help you? With that?” He nodded toward Wade’s crotch pointedly.

Wade chuckled. “I’m fine, Baby Boy. Don’t worry about me,” he assured, leaning down and snatching Peter’s pants off the floor. 

“Are you sure?” Peter pressed, grabbing his pants when Wade offered them. He teetered for a moment as he lifted a leg to put them on, his wings fluttering to keep him balanced. 

“Crystal.”

Peter tilted his head in confusion, pausing with his foot halfway inside his pant leg. “Huh?”

Wade ignored him in favor of grabbing the remote. “It doesn’t matter. Look, let’s just sit here and watch a movie. That sound good?” he asked, not waiting for a response as he turned on the t.v. and flipped over to a cartoon channel. 

Peter’s eyes moved from Wade’s face to the man’s obvious erection, his mind blank as he methodically finished putting on his pants. Once he was dressed, Peter bit his lip and debated whether he should push Wade for more. It was clear that the mercenary had enjoyed their tryst, so why was he blatantly refusing to allow Peter to reciprocate? Was being intimate with Peter truly that terrifying to him?

In the end, Peter decided to let Wade move at his own pace. It was a miracle in itself that he’d agreed to take their relationship to the next level, so Peter would respect his choice to end things before they went any further. He was confident that Wade would eventually reach a point where he could be completely open with Peter, and when that time came, Peter would be right there with him.

Peter was patient, and Wade was worth waiting for.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Strange](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13052454) by [smellslikecitrus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smellslikecitrus/pseuds/smellslikecitrus)




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